Dark Thing, Make a Myth of Yourself
by bicyclesarecool
Summary: "I feel her before I see her, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up in attention. When I shut my locker, she's parting the crowd like the red sea. Bella Swan is looking right at me, a smirk poised on her dark lips and something fierce in her dark eyes. There's something about her, something otherworldly. A storm is coming and I feel like i'm about to be caught in it." EPOV AU
1. nebulae

**Dark Thing, Make a Myth of Yourself**

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Dark thing,

make a myth of yourself:

all women turn into lilacs,

all men grow sick of their errant scent.

You could learn

to build a window, to change flesh

into isinglass, nothing

but a brittle river, a love of bone.

You could snap like a branch— _No,_

 _this way_ , he says, and the fence

releases the forest,

and every blue insect finds an inch of skin.

He loves low voices, diffidence

on the invented trail,

the stones you fuck him on. Yes

to sweat's souvenir, yes to his fist

in your hair, you bite

because you can. Silence

rides the back of your throat,

his tongue, your name.

- _Jennifer Chang_ -

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There was a time when I would have been nervous to be the new kid. However, by now I've had my fair share of first days of school and had gotten used to the routine: get to school early to get registered in the office. Get lost on my way to class because the map the secretary drew for me is unclear. Introduce myself as Edward from Chicago. The truth is I hasn't lived in Chicago for nine years but it's easier to answer questions about Navy Pier than it is to try to remember a fun fact about Sunbury, Ohio. The next step is make or break—it's time to claim a seat. Maybe next to the cute girl in the red tank top or over by the greasy looking guy in the back. I'll want to sit next to the girl but a girl causes extra complications when it's time to leave again. Greasy guys don't really give a fuck if you suddenly stop showing up to English.

This time is different though because I'm apparently staying here.

In Forks, Washington.

The most unknown town in the entire country. The greenest, wettest place I've ever seen. Our new house is so far from the highway that I'm convinced we'll eventually be swallowed up by the massive trees and vines that cover _everything_.

I guess I should be relieved to have some stability, to see mom "happily remarried at last." At least, that's what Dr. Halverson said before mom and I packed up her Volvo and drove the two thousand miles to a wet, green hell.

But honestly I don't really feel anything at this point—I've already got this routine, an old habit I can't seem to break.

Anyways, when I finally find room 104 and my first period English class, the teacher introduces me with so much enthusiasm that it makes me feel like I'm five years old and at my first day of kindergarten. New kids must not be a common thing here and the thought washes over me in a wave of dread.

I'll stand out more than I already do—tall and gangly with bright coppery hair that never seems to lay flat. Add new-kid-in-a-small-town to that list of descriptors and I should just give up now.

Happy junior year to me.

"Go ahead and sit anywhere that's open," the teacher, Mrs. Hayes, says kindly and gestures a chubby hand towards the rest of the class, the two dozen or so pairs of eyes that have been trained on me since I stepped through the doorway.

I have three options.

The first is in the second row next to a girl with a mess of platinum curls and an anxious hand with fingers that are going _tap tap tap_ on her desk. Though her blue eyes are friendly, she pops her gum.

Too loud. Definitely too loud.

The second option appears to be fast asleep, her face completely hidden under a wild curtain of dark hair. She doesn't stir and nobody really acknowledges her presence. Something about her makes me feel like the chair next to her was left empty intentionally. Okay, moving on.

Option three is a desk next to a lanky guy with long, shaggy hair the color of wheat fields in Indiana. Not as greasy as I usually prefer but he will do.

"Jasper," blonde kid says softly as introduction. I give him a half smile, keeping my eyes on his faded White Stripes t-shirt. Lack of eye contact is the best way to establish the casual detachment I strive for. We don't exchange anymore words and I try to listen to Mrs. Hayes get a discussion started on symbolism in _Invisible Man_. Her voice is a little hoarse, like she's getting over a cold, but it's unwaveringly cheery and my stare stays on the way her owl shaped brooch glimmers in the fluorescents for the remainder of the period. The familiar boredom is seeping in. I've already studied this book at the private school I attended for six months in New Jersey. That was also the place I helped my last greasy friend, James, sell all the prescription drugs we could find. James used to jokingly call me the _Xanimal_ because I was taking bars of Xanax with breakfast nearly every day.

At least it wasn't lines of coke.

I don't really like drugs—they were just what everyone was doing. They didn't play baseball, they played poker for coke and hundreds of dollars. The Xanax was different though—it was prescribed to me, totally legit. I just took them with gin at eight in the morning.

Obviously, I fit in just fine.

When the bell rings, Jasper hangs back, asking me if I know where I'm going. I always appreciate this small kindness—it makes things a little easier.

"My next class is in that hallway, too, I'll show you," he says, his eyes scanning the schedule in my outstretched hand. He's got a slight accent, a hint of a southern twang.

"Thank you."

We make our way to the front of the room and the dark haired girl who slept through the entire period steps out in front of us, her eyes not leaving the linoleum floor. I only catch a glimpse of her face, of a rosy, pale complexion. She's swallowed in a black hoodie, black jeans, and black boots.

Just outside, two girls are standing in the middle of the hallway, their arms crossed over their chests. Foot traffic works around them, like rocks in a stream. The shorter girl has ear buds in and she's twisting them with a blue polished finger as one corner of her pink mouth twitches upwards. The blonde next to her is at least a head taller than her and not nearly as friendly looking. Her blue eyes are hard as steel, her red lips set in a firm line.

As soon as the dark haired girl reaches them, they turn on their heels, walking down the hallway with a certain authority and a certain kind of grace. Students fill into the space they left and everything continues on as if that wasn't the weirdest thing I've ever seen.

I want to ask Jasper about them but I manage to stop myself. I'm bored—not rude. Besides, Jasper's face is beet red and I think it would just be better for the both of us to just continue on our way in companionable silence, moving the opposite direction from the three before us.

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I'm fully planning to sit alone during lunch. The small tables near the fire exit are usually empty because these old, small town schools are always the same. Dim lighting, gray tinged atmosphere, Formica and linoleum _everywhere_ with that terrible 1970s orange. They're far from the line and from the trash cans. Not really the most ideal or practical spot.

Unless you're avoiding the awkward where-do-I-sit dance of walking slowly down the aisles of tables, ignoring the curious stares of your new peers. Waiting in line for lunch is brutal. I don't know anyone and everyone is just staring at me, no one bothers to say hello. I pull my phone out of my back pocket, just for something to do. Two new messages.

 _Hope you're having a great first day, don't forget what Dr. Sheppard told you about being open! Love you, I'll be out front at 3. Love, mom._

 _Where the fuck are you? Vic says you moved?_

Okay, two very different messages. I can practically hear James' frustration in his text but I genuinely forgot to tell him.

I wonder what Dr. Sheppard, my newest therapist extraordinaire as well as my newest enemy, would say about _that_.

In the time it takes for me to get a slice of pizza and make my way across the cafeteria, the table I was banking on is taken.

It's the three of them, again.

The blonde is talking quickly, tossing her hair over her shoulder while the girl with the earbuds nods.

Between them is the girl from my English class, her chin resting in the palm of her hand and her gaze focused on the apple in front of her. I avert my eyes quickly as hers start to shift to mine.

I ignore the icy feeling in my gut as I head to the table next to theirs. My need for isolation from the rest of the Forks High population trumps my vague, irrational fear.

I'm a little more than halfway there when Jasper cuts me off, coming to such an abrupt stop in front of me that I nearly run him over.

"You…you can sit with me," he tells me, his eyes shifting to the back sections of tables. I hesitate to follow him to the direct center of the room, where the noise of teenaged chatter is deafening.

Jasper's table is half empty and for that, I'm grateful. The gum-snapper from earlier is there, Jasper sitting down next to her, along with a couple discussing something quietly with their heads together. I set my tray down across from them and everyone at the table looks up.

Could this be anymore awkward?

Gum-snapper introduces herself as Jessica, a friendly smile fixed to her face.

"That's Angela and Ben," she says, gesturing to the couple. They've already shifted their attention back to their conversation so they don't acknowledge her introduction.

"Are you having a good first day?" she asks, her voice is sweet and her eyes are soft.

"It's okay." I want to tell her that this is my third school in two years but I keep that to myself. I know by now the pitying looks I'll get, the questions that seem to _never end_.

"He almost sat in the back," Jasper tells her and her eyes widen in surprise, a bite of mashed potatoes pausing in front of her.

She sets her fork down and looks at me seriously, like, _too_ seriously.

"You don't want to sit in the back. That's _their_ spot."

I can't stop myself from looking over her shoulder, meeting the dark haired girls' gaze. Even from so far away, I can see that her eyes are also dark, stormy almost, framed by thick lashes and purple smudges. I wonder if she doesn't sleep, if the circles under her eyes match mine. Below that darkness is a pink blush on her cheeks and full lips painted the color of a plum.

She's beautiful, there's no denying it. She's beautiful like a cold evening in December, snow falling slowly. However, when her expression flashes to something fierce, something stony, I jerk my stare back to Jessica, my face growing warm and probably bright red.

" _Don't look at them!"_ Jessica hisses, ducking her head, looking to Jasper as if she needs backup.

"What is going on? Are they serial killers? Witches?" I laugh nervously because the both of them seem really uneasy and it's a little ridiculous.

"Don't even joke. We've gone to school with them since kindergarten and there's _something_ weird about them. They're so _weird_."

Jasper shakes his head, sighing a " _shameful"_ at her words.

"No, okay listen. You see Rosalie? The blonde one?" I do. She's still talking animatedly. Once Jessica sees my acknowledgement she continues, "she gets everything she wants. She goes through boys like tissues. She's in line to be our class valedictorian—no one is anywhere _close_ to her GPA."

"So she's rich and hot and smart? Not really that weird."

"It's more than that. She's terrifying, honestly. I've seen a teacher refuse to accept a late assignment from her and the look in her eyes was _not_ normal. I swear they went black and the temperature in the room literally dropped like, ten degrees. And then _of course_ they accepted it and she got an A."

I roll my eyes because even though I'm new and I'm supposed to be making a good impression, everything Jessica just said is _bullshit_. I want to tell her she's insane but she keeps talking.

"And _Alice_." Jasper cuts her off with a glare.

"Alice is alright," he tells her, his voice firm.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, she's a lot better than Rosalie. But she never takes those earbuds out and she's just…too nice."

"Being too nice is not a thing," Jasper mutters, shaking his head. "Can we move on? It's his first day and you're already dragging him into your gossip vortex."

"I'm just trying to warn him! Do you want him to fall victim to Rosalie's wrath when he encroaches on their space?" She's being dramatic and Jasper knows it but he lets out a resigned sigh as she waves her fork full of mashed potatoes around.

"No."

"What about the other one?" I ask, not even bothering to appear disinterested in the answer.

"Bella Swan," Jasper says but he seems distracted, spinning the bottle cap from his Coke on the table in front of him.

"Nothing special. Just weird, a little scary," Jessica continues, shrugging exaggeratedly. "Can I see your schedule? I wanna know if you're in any of my other classes."

While she makes comments about teachers and subjects to no one in particular, I let myself look at that table in the back where the girl called Bella is sharing one of Alice's earbuds, her eyes closed.

She may not be anything special, but she's definitely _something_.

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 **Hoping to get these out every Thursday, I've already gotten a lot of it written so that should be a pretty firm schedule.**


	2. orion's belt

**i'm weak and a second semester senior taking two classes. i have a lot of time on my hands. here you go.**

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 **chapter two: orion's belt**

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Mom is, of course, right on time. I see her beige sedan idling near the curb, making this terrible wheezing sound that all cars make when they're on their last leg. I brace myself for her bright smile, her endless stream of questions, as I open the door.

"How was it?" she's asking before I've even tossed my book-bag into the backseat.

"Nothing new," I nearly groan, rubbing my eyes. I need a nap. A Xanax. A shot of gin.

But instead, I have Esme Platt-Cullen asking me about school supplies and new friends and catching up with the curriculum, all of which are answered with zero enthusiasm. She doesn't notice.

"Carlisle told me there's an opening at the hospital," she says finally, grinning the crooked grin we share. Besides that smile and my green eyes, I'm a spitting image of my father. At least, that's what Mom said when I was little and still cared to find out about my deadbeat dad, bitterness always in her voice even though she tried not to let it show. She's big on "letting me make up my own mind" about him so I've been given the facts. A one night stand her freshman year of college turned into a nine-month long argument over hospital bills and permanent addresses. He was six years older than her and worked at a warehouse in upstate New York, where they both lived at the time. He stuck around for a few months but ended up running off to California or something cliché like that.

But then of course, she had to drop out of school and take care of me. But as she always assures me, "I'd never trade you for a degree anyways."

Still, her lack of a college education made it hard for her to get a decent job. Nothing like a teen pregnancy to derail your dreams of making something of yourself. She was a secretary at a law firm in Illinois and a waitress in North Carolina. Briefly, she worked at a YMCA in Ohio and that was the best summer of my life because I spent my days swimming and eating candy bars from the vending machines.

Apparently, we're about to add CPA in Washington to that list.

"It's nothing glamorous or anything," she continues, brushing a caramel colored curl out of her eyes as she pulls out onto the main road in town. "But it'll get my foot in the door. Carlisle was telling me about this program at the community college and I think I could be really good as a nurse; don't you think?"

"Yeah, definitely."

She answers with another smile, her dimples appearing as they only do when she's _really_ happy. Mom keeps talking about her new job, about what color she wants to paint our living room and I stare out the window. Jersey was all suburbs and old factories. Forks feels like we're fighting back the forest, the mossy trees seem to encroach more and more on us every day. It makes me a little claustrophobic. When we pull up to a stop sign, the rain starts to pick up and Mom _tsk_ s, her eyes squinting up towards the sky. I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut. It hasn't stopped raining since we got here and I had been hoping for a little break.

No such luck.

I reopen my eyes, ready to come to terms with the fact that I will never see the sun again.

But then, I see Bella Swan walking along the edge of the road, her head tipped up to the rain and her clothes are completely sagging with the torrents of water falling on her. She looks at peace. A little sad, but at peace. It's ethereal almost, like she's in a movie and she's made of magic. Her mascara is running and I feel like I could stay watching her in this moment forever.

But then her head snaps down, her eyes finding mine with that same fierce look from earlier in the cafeteria. It gives me the chills and burns me at the same time.

I give her a small, tentative smile but she doesn't change her gaze. Her mouth stays in a tight line and her brow remains furrowed, as if she can't believe I just had the _audacity_ to smile at her.

Lightning cuts across the sky and my mom's surprised gasp makes me break our stare. The resulting thunder is instant, as if it's right over us. My heart is hammering.

When I go to find Bella again, she's gone.

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"Don't you think that color is a little too…dark?"

The distasteful tone in my mother's voice is like nails on a chalkboard. I'm about to spit some teenage-angst fueled complaint but Carlisle places a hand on her shoulder.

"Es, it's his room, come on."

I'm grateful for him at this moment, and many other moments. He's not who I thought he'd be: a wealthy surgeon with blond hair and tanned skin. I was ready for a vapid, mistress-a-minute kind of guy but he's proven himself to be a very smart, kind man who adores my mother like the sun shines out her ass. He's still tanned and blond though, so I was right about _some_ of it. When I first met him, they'd been dating for a while. She always thinks she needs to keep shit like that a secret from me, like she thinks I'm going to be hurt she's bringing another man into her life. Honestly though, I prefer it when she's in a relationship. She's not crying anymore, she doesn't guilt trip me into spending my weekends with her and she doesn't micromanage every little thing I do, like she's attempting to do now.

It's just that when things end, she dives head first back into those old patterns _plus_ packing up everything and moving because she just "can't stand this town anymore."

She'll never say that it's because she's heartbroken and scared and bitter. No, it's always the town's fault. Milk is too expensive here, school isn't challenging me enough, the neighbors keep taking our recycling bin, et cetera.

At this point, I'm just hoping this thing with Carlisle lasts _at least_ until I go to college. Forks may not be the most ideal place to live but it's better than being the new kid again. I hate being the new kid almost as much as I hate being _called_ the New Kid. People think they're being clever and funny but it's annoying and overdone. I'm not in some stupid teen movie, I'm just trying to slip under the radar and be left alone.

Anyways, I'm hopeful and so for the first time in years, I'm painting the walls of my bedroom. Deep blue is my go-to, it's like the sky before dawn and I have so many constellation posters that it's not like she'll even be able to see the wall.

I'm a geek for astronomy, truth be told, but I'll deny it to anyone who asks. It's my secret—the one thing I make sure I keep to myself. Stargazing is the perfect hobby for an insomniac and in all honesty, no matter where I am, the stars are always there. I want to punch myself for even thinking something so stupid but it's true. Knowing that I'll always have some semblance of stability in my life is enough to keep me grounded.

It's a Saturday night and Jasper invited me to go to the movies with a group of people whose names I can't keep straight but I declined, telling him I was still unpacking. It wasn't a total lie, most of my stuff is still in boxes but I never had any real intention to work on it today. I slept late into the afternoon and was fully planning on watching TV for the rest of my weekend but Mom started badgering me at dinner about getting my room put together so I went to the only hardware store for twenty miles and bought paint I knew she would hate.

So here we are, 8pm, the sun is just starting to fade and I'm making my own personal, permanent night inside this old house by the river on the edge of town.

I'm finding myself wondering what Bella Swan is doing, images of her makeup streaked cheeks burning a hole in my head.

I imagine her and Rosalie and Alice in cloaks, circled around a fire and murmuring spells and I shake the image out and away because it means that I'm taking what Jessica said seriously, even if it's just for fun.

I'm sure they're at the movies or having a slumber party or out on dates or doing whatever the hell it is that teenage girls do on Saturday nights in small towns.

I'm hoping she's not on a date, though, and that realization shakes me. I've never spoken to her, I only have one class with her. Thoughts of Bella are intrusive and they won't go away.

Hours later as I'm _literally_ watching paint dry and trying to avoid thinking about Bella Swan, I unpack my telescope since the clouds are starting to clear. It's an Orion SkyScanner, bright red and can sit on a table (or in this case, my obnoxiously wide windowsill). I got it for Christmas when I was ten and it's not the best ever (there are some you can get for ten grand that can be installed in a personal observatory) but it does the job—distracting myself from my own thoughts.

I always find Orion first—it's my favorite point of reference-and go from there. Orion is the nebula where stars are being born at a rapid pace and it's named after the Greek demigod—a giant with superhuman abilities born of Poseidon. It's said that when he was eventually slain, he was placed among the stars for all eternity. I hope that it's real. I want to be made of stars when I die.

After finding Orion, I start looking for something I haven't learned about yet. That's my favorite part, finding something interesting and looking it up on one of my maps, then researching it. This is when I'm at my most content, while I let myself feel small and calm in this massive universe of stars.

I wonder if the girl with stormy eyes ever does the same.

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 **thank you for reading and a big thank you to everyone that reviewed the last chapter-hearing your thoughts make my day.**


	3. Lyra

***adele voice*** _ **hello, it's me**_ **and here's another chapter plz enjoy**

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 **chapter three: Lyra**

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Early Sunday morning I'm buckled into the passenger seat next to my mom, trying to tune out her off-key sing-a-long to _Dancing in the Dark_. I got a total of 45 minutes of sleep before she swung my bedroom door open (without knocking, of course) and told me to get ready because we're going couch shopping.

I'm less than excited.

Apparently, Forks doesn't have a place that sells furniture so we're making the trip to Port Angeles, nearly an hour away. Nearly an hour of Springsteen karaoke.

Port Angeles would be picturesque in the sunlight. A quaint downtown surrounded by mountains on one side, water on the other. It's gloomy out though, rain threatening us as we pull into a parking space at Angeles Furniture. I'm expecting sofas and chairs straight out of Amish country but instead everything is super sleek and modern, black leather and brightly patterned throw pillows. The salesman meets us at the door, ready for an easy sell. My mom always looks like she'll be an easy sell.

I want to laugh at how wrong that assumption is.

Esme Platt-Cullen does her research and fucking loves a good deal.

It takes upwards of an hour to pick the first couch she looked at, the exasperated salesman had taken her around the entire showroom. I parked myself on the nearest chair, drifting in and out of sleep until Mom places a hand on my shoulder, proudly proclaiming that she got free shipping on top of whatever she managed to haggle him down to.

"Do you want to check out any of the town? We can grab some breakfast," she says and my stomach growls my answer.

She puts her arm around me, leading us back outside and she's grinning so wide her face is going to crack in half. My heart swells a little bit because as much as she irritates me sometimes, it's been just the two of us for so long. I'll never admit it out loud, but I think she's my best friend.

When she asks me, "Do you like it here?" her voice is soft, uncertain. I honestly don't have any inclination to any answer to that, other than her newfound happiness.

"It's great," I assure her and she grins again, satisfied with my answer.

There's a small place on the corner of the next block, a sign in the window proclaiming it to have _the best pancakes in Washington_.

We'll see.

Walking in, I can smell syrup and fresh coffee and my exhaustion kind of fades into a vague, comfortable tiredness like the kind you feel on a snowy Saturday morning.

"Hi, Edward," a voice lilts off to my side, like bells tinkling.

It's Alice, the short girl with the earbuds, which she is wearing, even though they're hidden by her short, black bob. Her smile is nothing short of friendly and her gray eyes are surprisingly warm. To say I'm caught off guard is the understatement of the century.

"Oh, hi," I say and mom raises her eyebrows at me before releasing my waist and wandering over to a booth at the far end of the restaurant.

"I'm Alice. I think we're in the same study hall."

I can confirm this. She's a presence in the back of the room and sometimes her music is so loud I can hear it from two rows away.

I nod and ask, "Yeah. How's it going?"

"Oh, um," her eyes flash briefly, surprised. "I'm good, how are you?"

"Tired but good."

"Making the most of PA?" she asks, a tentative smile tugging at her lips. I can't help but wonder how many people actually talk to her, her uncertainty at such a small exchange is unnerving and a little depressing.

"I mean, it's the home of the best pancakes in Washington." Her laughter is high and abrupt.

"Between you and me, it's bullshit." I gasp in fake surprise and she smiles again, fidgeting with the hem of her purposefully tattered looking dress.

"I gotta go but maybe I'll see you in study hall?" She's backing up towards the door, her fingers twisting in the fabric nervously.

"See you."

I'm in a sort-of daze on my way to the booth in the back, the waitress is already there, giving Mom the specials but I don't hear any of them, a single conversation with Alice has put me in a fog.

The waitress' voice is a little irritated when she asks, "You want the pancakes, right hon?" I wonder how many times she's asked me.

"And a coffee," I say, blinking. "Black. Thank you."

Mom sighs. She thinks my coffee habit is out of hand but it's the only thing that keeps me awake. Four cups a day or I'm dead to the world.

When the waitress is gone, Mom folds her hands in front of her, a curious smile coming to fruition on her face.

"So, who was that girl?" She's teasing me but she shouldn't be. Not at all, because I have to answer honestly.

"I don't know."

But maybe I will soon.

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On Monday, I'm prepared to use my study hall to sleep but that's all thrown out the window when Alice takes the seat next to me, giving me a small smile, her eyes asking _is this okay?_

"Hey," I say, _you're fine_. Her shoulders relax and her smile grows.

There's music pouring from her earbuds but she still says, "Hi. Did you have a nice rest of your Sunday?"

"It was okay." I can't lie and tell her it was great or even good. I slept through the whole afternoon and spent my night eating cereal and looking for Jupiter. In Greek Myth, Jupiter (Zeus) was a total dick, no doubt. He was easily distracted by women and being supreme-ruler-of-the-universe made him hard to resist. He took advantage of goddesses and mortals alike and fucked up a lot of lives.

I do not want to be Zeus.

Alice does not ask me about Zeus or Jupiter or any of its moons.

The room has fallen silent as more students begin to enter and Alice murmurs, "they're staring at us." I can hear the hesitation in her whisper as she continues, "I'm sorry, do you want me to move?"

Her words seep into my chest, a sad twinge hits behind my ribs. This girl thinks she's embarrassing me? These assholes are treating her like a freak? Because she's _nice_?

"What?" I say loudly, a growing rage starting to boil inside me. The tenor of my voice seems foreign to me—I've always been content to fade into the shadows. The less attention you draw to yourself, the less likely people are to bother you. But with 20 or so high schoolers' eyes on us I figure, what the hell? I've already got their attention.

"Edward," Alice begins, blinking rapidly, her gray eyes shining

"I'm sorry that everyone in this school apparently sucks," I say, not bothering to lower my voice and mostly everyone goes back to what they were doing, though a low murmur settles into the room.

Alice still looks like she's going to cry and I definitely am not prepared to handle _that_ , so I ask, "What are you listening to?"

Another smile, like she can't help it, her eyes bright as she answers.

"Right now, _the Medic_ by Foxing, but I've been switching between them and Ella Fitzgerald all day."

"What's Foxing?" Her answering grin is contagious. She turns, digging around in her small, leather backpack.

"Here," she says, holding out another pair of earbuds and plugs the end of them into the splitter she has connected to her iPod.

"Holy shit, that thing's ancient," I say before I can stop myself. Another tinkling laugh.

"It's the one with the most storage." She holds up her white brick of an iPod. It's got a small cube duct taped to the back of it. "The battery is old though, so I have to bring back up power."

"How many songs do you have on it?"

"Um, somewhere around like, 50,000?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"You never know what song you'll need in the moment," she says simply and places the extra earbuds in my palm. Music is already playing when I put them in, a horn blowing, but she quickly switches it to something else.

"This is Foxing," is her introduction and a soft guitar medley fades in, followed by a sudden clap. The singer's voice is rough, sad, and a little forceful. Alice's eyes are closed, her face with it's hard, pointed cheekbones and a dramatic slope of a nose is serene and the feeling of that peace makes it way to me, too. I almost fall asleep. Alice keeps playing songs and I keep listening.

It's the best conversation I've had since I moved here.

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I'm starting to think that Alice and I might be friends. Or at least, acquaintances.

Which is a big deal to me, just because it's not my usual style. However, it's apparently a bigger deal to everyone else.

At lunch on Thursday, we pass each other as I make my way back from the lunch line, what feels like cold mac n cheese on my tray.

"Hi, Edward," she says. This is her standard greeting when she sits next to me in study hall, her hesitation gradually fading with each day.

"Hi, Alice. Don't get the mac n cheese, I already regret it."

She laughs, throwing her head back and behind her, I see Jasper staring, incredulous, at our table. Just past him, at the table in the far back, Rosalie looks _furious_. I understand what Jessica meant by her being scary. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and that is _not_ an exaggeration.

But Rosalie is easy to ignore when I see Bella Swan next to her, her dusky eyes on mine, full lips parted as if she cannot believe what is happening. Her posture is a little straighter than usual because when I'm trying not to stare at her in English or across the cafeteria like I'm doing now, she's not stiff. There's something fluid about her, even when she's just sitting in a chair. It's not like she's hunched over, I don't know. It's hard to describe. But this change in posture with those eyes locked with mine shoots a thrill up my spine.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," Alice tells me after a beat, her expression amused. I nod, not trusting my voice, and join my usual table.

"What was that?" Jasper cannot contain himself, he's switching his gaze between me and, I assume, Alice so fast it looks like he's on speed.

I would know.

"What was what?" I'm playing dumb and his cheeks turn red.

"That little…whatever with Alice?"

"What, saying hi?"

He sputters, he's flustered and when Jessica sits next to him, she looks alarmed.

"Well, what did she say? What did you say? Why did she laugh?"

Woah, woah woah.

He must see the apprehension on my face so he leans back, taking a deep breath.

"Nevermind," he mutters.

Jessica looks like she's about to explode, having absolutely no idea what is going on but the way she mashes her lips together shows she's trying not to be nosey. I'm feeling nice so I decide to put her out of her misery.

"The world is apparently ending because I had a brief conversation with Alice."

She lets out a big puff of air, eyes wide. Staring at the two of them, I can't stop my laughter. What is it with this school and these girls?

"Am I like the Witch Whisperer now or something?" I joke but Jessica looks stricken.

"That is _not_ funny to joke about. You have no idea what you're talking about."

Her tone is unnecessarily mean but it's masking fear.

I don't know if I'll ever get this. This system of exclusion and being afraid and just so much _bullshit_.

I stand up, leaving her and her gossip behind as I head for my next class twenty minutes too early.

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 **Til next time. Ps. That foxing song is awesome and I love it.**


	4. nyx

**Hey it's Thursday, so here's chapter four. Thank you so much to everyone reading, to everyone who reviews and to those of you that recommend this story to others. It means so, so much.**

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 **chapter four: nyx**

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I'm expecting Jasper's call after school. I'd given him my number last week and I know he's dying to hear more about my conversation with Alice. When he slides into the seat across from mine at the Diner (yes, it's just called _the Diner_ ), hi hands slap against the sticky Formica table and he picks up a menu, continuing with the ruse of his _this is just to hang out_ excuse.

He's muttering something about a club sandwich when I finally say, "Jasper."

He looks up, his eyes alarmed and grin sheepish. I definitely made a mistake. Jasper is just a long haired, go with the flow, kind of guy. _Not_ greasy, nowhere close to being a dirtbag. He's too nice, to soft. I don't even think he smokes pot. I don't even know if this guy has ever had a beer.

"I'm not slick, am I?"

"Not in the slightest. So just, say what you want to say." Jasper takes a deep breath.

"I…I like Alice." I feign a gasp. No shit he likes Alice.

"What? No way." He blushes for what feels like the hundredth time today. Greasy guys _don't_ blush.

"Am I really that obvious?" I can only shrug, eliciting a groan from him as the old woman from behind the counter moseys her way over to us, her raspy voice asking what we want, her eyes never moving from the yellowed pad of paper in her hand. Once she's gone, Jasper starts to explain himself, no prompting needed. It's almost as if he's been holding this in for his entire life.

"There's just something about her, you know? There's just this pull to her. There always has been. In third grade she smiled at me once and every so often I'll get that again and I know it's not much but…it's something."

I feel for the guy, I do. I know how much the tiniest bit of attention can fuck with you.

Jasper stares at his glass of water for a long, long time as I process what he's said.

"So…" Okay, I'm bad with this whole being-a-friend thing. Really bad.

"I guess, I brought it up because I'm…honestly a little afraid of her and so, I need your help."

"You need my help?"

He sighs, exasperated with me.

"You're the only one to actually talk to her. Like, ever. There's something about you, man."

"I'm not sure what I can do to help, but I'll try. And she's not that scary. She isn't scary at all."

Jasper's answering grin is thanks enough and I can't help but think that Forks just keeps sucking me in further.

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It's dark by the time we part ways, Jasper getting into his blue Honda looking relieved. I don't go home—I know that if I do, I'll just end up lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and wishing I was dead. Mom and Carlisle are out tonight so I take advantage of this thankfully warm evening.

The sidewalks don't really extend past the main road that the Diner sits on so I stay close to the tree line, not particularly wanting to become a piece of some trucker's windshield. This town's layout doesn't make any sense, it's as if they built everything in gaps in the forest, as if not a single tree was cut down. When the road dead ends at another, I take a left down the new street. It's in the opposite direction of home but it's still a residential area and I'm grateful for the street lamps.

It's so quiet. I've never lived anywhere this quiet, the lush trees and vines and grass seem welcoming and soft and the air is clear in my lungs. It's a strange feeling, this sense of peace and calm but I welcome it. I close my eyes and inhale.

This is the closest I've been to _happy_ in a very long time.

My hands are in my pockets, the sky opens just a little bit, an occasional rain drop dampens my hair but my mood remains high.

Turning a corner, a swing set comes into view and as I keep going, more play equipment appears.

And so does a bench.

A bench with a girl on it.

And, of course, that girl is Bella Swan.

She's got her eyes closed, her head tilted up to the sky. I'd say she's asleep but as I near her, she asks, "Are you stalking me?"

Her voice isn't what I expected, a little raspy and at a lower register. I feel my face heat, though she doesn't notice because her eyes are still shut.

"Um, no, I'm not…I'm not…stalking you."

During all of my flustered sputtering, Bella Swan does the unthinkable.

She smiles.

It's small, the corners of her mouth twitching ever so slightly and it feels as if the world has stopped turning when her eyes flutter open.

"I'm just fucking with you, New Kid." I'm taken aback.

"I'm getting really sick of that nickname."

Her eyes are such a deep shade of brown that I can't tell where her pupils stop and her irises begin. They're bright though, like a clear night sky.

She sighs, but not in a way that shows any sympathy, "that's tough. You're the big-time city boy. We don't get many of those."

Her tone is mocking of her peers and I have to admit, "I haven't lived in Chicago since I was little. I move…a lot. Last place we lived was just outside of Jersey City."

A full on smirk.

My heart clenches.

"I don't know much about the wildlife in Jersey, but we have some pretty scary things out here," she tells me. "You shouldn't be out alone at night, it's _dangerous_." She whispers the last part conspiratorially, her body angled towards mine. I roll my eyes.

"Well, same to you."

Her answering laugh is humorless, her face tilted up to the sky as she extricates herself from the bench. I can't help but notice how small she is, a waif, a wisp that could get lost in the breeze.

"See you around, New Kid," she says in lieu of a goodbye as she makes her way across the street. I watch her swaying form until it disappears between two houses. The night grows quiet again, the stars glow above as clouds start to drift away.

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The newly clear sky allows me a night without my telescope. I pull my bed across the room to a new spot beneath the window. I stretch out on my back, hands behind my head and I pretend that the stars are the only things there. I think about Nyx, the Greek goddess and personification of the night sky. For once I'm too tired to look for the mountain on Venus that shares her name so I settle for closing my eyes, trying to piece together what I remember of the Night. She doesn't show up much anymore in classes or books because so little survives of her in literature or art but I know that she's the mother of not only darkness, but also brightness. She's such a frightening force of shadowy beauty and power that even Zeus was afraid of her.

When I picture what Nyx would look like, all I can see are eyes that match the sky.

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"I just need you to sign this, it's due today."

"Can it wait?"

"Mom, I should've left for school ten minutes ago, it'll take two seconds."

"Edward, here, I'll sign it," Carlisle says, entering the kitchen with a quick glance at mom, who is perched high on a ladder, painting the walls and dripping red paint all over the tarp below her.

"Thanks," I say, blowing out a puff of air as he takes the wrinkled sheet from my hand and reads it aloud.

"You're going to the beach?" I can practically _hear_ Mom's eyebrows raise.

"It's for bio. We're gathering samples for class."

"Seems like an awful lot of trouble for just one class," she mutters.

"I don't plan the stupid things," I sigh, irritated. It's too early for this. She catches my tone with narrowed eyes.

"Watch it," she warns. "Have you been sleeping? Is that where this attitude is coming from?"

 _Here we go_.

"Yes, I've been sleeping," I mumble. It isn't a lie. I just haven't been sleeping _a lot_.

"I don't buy it," she says. "Don't forget, you have an appointment with Dr. Sheppard today. Three thirty. Be on time."

"Yes, warden," I say, just to make her mad. It works, and Carlisle practically pushes me out of the door in a desperate attempt to save us both from her wrath.

"You're going to get us both sent to bed without supper," he jokes, closing the front door behind us. I give him a weak smile, just to show that I appreciate him not yelling at me, too.

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Dr. Sheppard is a tall, bird like woman. She's all sharp angles and pointed joints. Small spectacles perched on her nose, red hair twisted tightly on top of her head. Sensible, black shoes.

She ushers me into her office right as the minute hand strikes the _six_ and I pick the seat I sat in last time, a sagging ivory sofa in the corner of the room as she makes her way to a leather swivel chair in front of her desk.

I hate this room. Dark green carpet, fake plants everywhere and no windows. On the walls are generic prints of roses and the whole thing is bogus, not relaxing or whatever the hell she's going for.

"So, Edward, how were the first few weeks of school?" she asks, her voice clipped, but soft.

"Fine," I say with a shrug. Nothing special, nothing new.

"Just fine?"

"S'what I said."

Okay, I'll admit, I'm kind of a dick but I'm so _tired_ of being analyzed by shrinks.

She scribbles on the pad of paper in her lap before asking, "are you sleeping?"

"A little."

"A little? What constitutes a little?"

"I don't know, an hour or two?"

More scribbling.

"Why is that?"

"Aren't you supposed to tell me that?"

"Defensive."

Scribble, scribble.

"I'm not defensive. I just can't sleep."

"How's the anxiety? The depression?"

I fight a laugh before I say, "I really don't think those are issues I have but if you're asking if I'm the same as last time, then I'd say I'm the same."

She flips to the next page, still taking copious notes.

"And the drug use?" Her eyebrows are raised as she waits for my answer. I can feel her steely gaze on me.

"No drugs," I sigh. You fail a drug test _one time_ and they never let you forget it.

"Do you have _anything_ you'd like to talk about?" she asks and though she's trying to mask it, I can hear the exasperation in her tone.

"Can we talk about why I'm here? Why we're both forced to suffer through this hour of hell?"

"Why would you call it hell?"

"Oh my _god_ , because we're getting nowhere. We're wasting our time."

"Why do you think that?"

I'm about ready to start throwing things. I hate these appointments, no matter who is running them. I hated them when I was ten and I sure as shit hate them now.

Why is it so bad that I don't sleep as much as other people?

I'm fine.

Everything is fine.

"I'm putting you on a new antidepressant. It's a generic form of Zoloft, take one tablet before bed. It might cause some drowsiness so maybe you'll get some sleep. Call me if there isn't a change within the next two weeks."

"I thought these appointments were supposed to make me feel better, not worse," I mutter. She smirks and tears off a sheet of paper from her prescription pad.

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 **See you in a few dayz folks**


	5. jupiter

**HAPPY MONDAY here's some more of your favorite stargazing sad boy.**

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 **chapter five: Jupiter**

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"This is my chance," Jasper is saying as the bus is pulling out of the school parking lot. It's been a week so far and my mood has not changed with the new meds. My hands shake a little more than they used to and my mouth is always dry but that's it. I fold them together in my lap as Jasper continues explaining his plan.

"So, at the beach, you need to start a conversation with her," he whispers. "And I'm gonna stick to you like glue. I need you to be my wingman, got it?"

"Aye Aye Captain," I say and he gives me a wary glance. He's been freaking out about this for days but I'm not sure why. It's as casual as we can get and other than the fact that Jessica seems to be distancing herself more and more from us, everything's been normal. I see her at the front of the bus, talking to Angela, her head turning to look at the bus in front of us every five seconds. The bus that _they_ are on.

Jasper's knee bounces the entire twenty-minute ride to La Push beach and in truth, it's making _me_ anxious. I shake my head at him, trying to tell him to chill and his answering smile is feeble but apologetic.

The air is more humid on the beach than it is in Forks, but it still smells like the sea, salt lingering in the air. Even though the wind is strong and the sun is hidden behind a wall of gray clouds, this Indian summer is keeping the temperature up. Mr. Banner, the bio teacher, is passing out lists and sample jars but I take a moment to let my eyes close. Waves are crashing and people are laughing and I am completely at ease. Jasper says my name, bringing me out of it and the first thing I see is Bella Swan standing outside of the group of our peers, her head cocked just slightly as she stares at me with an expression that looks as if she's trying to solve a difficult equation.

"Come on, let's go get some water samples over by Alice," Jasper whispers and he nudges me towards the surf and Bella Swan. It's funny, watching Jasper try to appear completely oblivious to the trio standing ten feet away as he crouches down, jar ready.

It takes about three seconds for Alice to say a bright, "Hello, Edward."

"Hey, Alice," I say as she makes her way over to us. Jasper stands up immediately, the jar he's holding falls out of his hand and splatters on the sand, the tide almost sweeping it away. Alice snatches it just in time and hands it back to him, her face lit up with a grin. Rosalie is glaring a _what the fuck_ kind of glare into the back of Alice's head and Bella looks mildly curious.

"Thank you," Jasper says hoarsely and I can see Rosalie starting to inch away from us.

"You know Jasper, right? And Jasper, this is Alice," I say, trying my best to be the wingman he needs me to be.

They say in unison, "I know," before dissolving into quiet laughter.

"I think I saw some tide pools over there," Alice says, her pinkie finger twisting the cord of her earbuds. "But I didn't get a jar. Can we share?"

I'm pretty sure he's going to explode but he nods and they start to walk away. I don't see the hesitation Alice showed me when she talks to Jasper. It's almost like she's jumping back into a conversation they'd already started.

"Alice? Are you serious?" Rosalie calls after her and the next gust of wind is colder than the ones before it. Alice doesn't even turn around and Rosalie's eyes darken.

They literally darken.

"It's fine, she's fine," Bella says softly and Rosalie spits a "whatever" before storming off towards the rest of the group. I wait to be left alone but Bella doesn't follow either of her friends, sighing instead as the wind whips her hair around her face, her painted lips in a tight line and eyes in their usual position: upwards to the sky.

"Cold?" I ask, taking in her too-big maroon sweatshirt and faded jeans.

Still not looking at me, she smirks and says, "Always."

"I don't ever get cold. I think I run warm, you know? My mom says I'm practically a space heater." I'm rambling and she knows it.

"You talk a lot," she says slowly, finally turning her gaze to meet mine.

"I'm sorry," I tell her automatically. Her eyes always throw me off, the intensity of them, the endless depth.

Her laugh.

My heartbeat quickens at the sight of her mouth twisted in an honest to god smile, the sound washing over me and leaving me light.

"I like that you do. Talk a lot, I mean." I can only blink because what she's said has shifted the sand beneath my feet and the sun finally peeks out from behind a cloud. She looks exhausted, like she hasn't slept for weeks.

But those purple circles under her eyes don't take anything away from how pretty she is. No, she's more than that. Her porcelain skin, the stormy darkness of the rest of her, she's a mystery and she's goddamn beautiful.

And I'm standing next to her on a beach on a Thursday.

"So," she begins, bringing us out of the pause we'd fallen victim to. "How are you liking school?" Her tone is mocking, but not of me. Instead, she glances at the group of classmates hovering closely. I shrug.

"It's the same as every other school I've been to." This is the first time I've answered that ever present question with something other than, "fine".

"You've been to a lot of schools." It isn't a question.

"Yeah, you could say that."

"That sucks. May I ask why?" I shrug.

"My mom just likes to change things up, I guess." She lets out a breathy laugh.

"Usually people just paint their living room or something."

"Go big or go home."

Down the beach, Alice and Jasper are walking back in our direction, deep in conversation as Alice moves her hands animatedly. He's smiling so big it almost hurts to look at him.

Bella hums a little, her eyebrows pushed together at the sight of them.

"Strange," she murmurs so quietly I don't think I'm supposed to hear it.

When they reach us, both of them have pink cheeks and bright eyes, flushed from each other's presence. Bella and Alice lock eyes for a moment.

"We should go," Alice whispers and Bella nods, tucking a wild strand of hair behind her ear as they turn towards the busses, no parting words to us, nothing.

Only Alice throwing a small grin over her shoulder and Bella Swan's clenched fists.

Jasper exhales.

"She's amazing."

I close my eyes so I don't have to see the wild girl disappear into the crowd, an unfamiliar ache taking up space in my chest.

"She is," I reply softly, the words getting lost in the breeze.

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It's another perfect night, the stars are out early and I'm still reeling from my talk with Bella. It was brief, just skimming the surface of a shallow topic but I keep going over it in my head. At home after school I couldn't sit still to do homework, I just kept pacing my room. So after dinner, I decided to walk and I'm going the same way I went the other day. I'm looking for that bench. Maybe I'm looking for Bella Swan.

Really, I just want to explore the town.

That's all. Nothing else.

I kind of wish I had brought my iPod or something. Tonight feels like that Foxing song that Alice showed me a couple of weeks ago but less sad. I don't know, there's an anxiousness in my chest and my mind feels like it's going at a million miles an hour. The clear calmness from the other day is gone, I'm lost in melancholy wandering.

I can't find my footing.

I've never thought about a girl this much, because sure, I'll admit it, she's been on my mind since I learned her damn name. It's not like I haven't been with girls; I'd rounded home base when I was 15. But it's never been more than that. I can't even remember half of their names, girls who let me feel all of them when I was lonely or frustrated or high.

I'm a dirt bag, closer to being Zeus than I'd ever want to acknowledge.

I kick up a patch of loose gravel, frustrated with myself and frustrated with my life. It's stupid, really, for me to blame all of this on the moving around because I know that's just what all those therapists want. They want me to break down, to tell them that I have so much apathy towards living and being because I don't know what it's like to actually have even a semblance of a life. I've avoided letting roots grow so it won't hurt when they get torn out.

Huh, maybe I _am_ as fucked up as they say.

I'd kill for a Xanax right now but since the whole incident in New Jersey in which I had nearly overdosed on some pills that James had scored from some girl he knew at NYU, Mom keeps all medication (except my daily antidepressants, of course) under lock and key.

In order to get them, I'd have to explain why I need them.

Hard pass.

I want to tear my hair out, I want to lay in the middle of the street, I want to run screaming across that beach at La Push.

But then I see Bella Swan perched on the same bench I found her on before, head tipped up.

The only difference is that instead of sitting in the exact center of the bench like last time, she's left the right side open.

"You can sit down, if you want," she says quietly and my heart thrums wildly as I do. She's cross-legged and so our knees are nearly touching. If I just move over a few inches…

No. I can't.

"It's nice out tonight," I say, just to prevent an awkward silence and to give myself something to think about other than touching her. One corner of her mouth lifts, she closes her eyes like she's in on a secret joke.

"I think so, too."

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 **See you by Thursday at the absolute latest xx**


	6. orbit

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 **chapter six: orbit**

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It doesn't take long for my days to begin revolving around Bella Swan. By the time October rolls in, cooler air coming with it, I have a new routine. It goes as follows:

Wake up early for school, think about the way she laughed at me the night before.

At school, be on high alert for any sign of her—always hope to hear a _hello_ from Alice. This means that Bella isn't far behind.

Stare at her in English, the way she rests her head on her desk as Mrs. Hayes talks about symbolism in Faulkner's _As I Lay Dying_. Be amazed at every question she answers correctly, her eyes never opening. Heart thrums at the sound of her low, tired voice.

Pretend like the smile she gives me across the cafeteria during lunch isn't making me feel like she's kicking my insides around.

Spend the rest of the day in total agony. We don't cross paths at school again. At home, try to do my homework but my concentration is nonexistent.

Take a nap. Dream about her skin on mine.

Eat dinner with my mom and Carlisle, avoid their questions about my mental health.

Take another stab at doing homework.

Give up.

Sneak out the front door after the sun has gone down. Act like I'm not going to the bench.

Go to the bench.

Try not to run to where she's sitting.

Pretend like she's waiting for me.

Talk her ear off until she disappears, never saying goodbye.

Go home, don't sleep, find new stars.

Rinse and repeat.

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"How many places have you lived? Can you list them?"

Bella is one to ask random questions. No transition or reason needed.

"Um." I haven't actually thought about it in a long time, I try not to dwell. But on this chilly October night, Bella's attention is focused solely on my answer. "I've lived in Chicago, Ypsilanti, Sunbury, Chapel Hill, Amarillo, uh, Phoenix and most recently Jersey City."

She lets out a puff of air.

"It's an insane number of cities I know," I say, vaguely ashamed though I can't place why.

"Sounds lonely," she murmurs and she keeps her gaze locked with mine, not letting my eyes travel to my shoes like I want them to. All I can do is shrug. I don't trust my voice anymore. I've been meeting her at this park for a little over a week now and I'm still not used to her careful consideration of me. She looks at me with wide eyes, swimming with some kind of intrigue, some emotion I can't identify. It sets me on fire.

"I've never left this part of Washington," she rasps. "But it's still lonely, so what do I know?"

I try to imagine her carrying the same empty feeling I do, the same exhaustion, the same fear of, well, everything. A fear of letting people in, a fear of never finding a place to land.

"But you have Alice and Rosalie," I offer, hoping to make her feel better. She blinks twice, slowly.

"That's…it's not…I guess you're right." She untangles herself, stepping onto the grass. She's about to leave, I know it as soon as she takes a single step.

I reach out, my hand landing gently on her forearm. Soft, cool skin. Electricity from the contact. She jerks away, stumbling, turning to me.

She looks as if I've burned her.

The wind blows and she makes her way across the street.

I said something wrong, whatever it was.

"I'm sorry," I call but she doesn't stop. She keeps going, dipping between two sagging houses, and disappearing from view.

Our nights are built on tentative conversation. She asks me questions and I answer them, while I only learn bits and pieces about her life through vague mutterings.

We never explicitly say that we are going to meet, it's just…I always come to the bench and she's always there staring at the sky.

The second night I came to find her, she asked me how my day was. I was taken aback that she'd even remotely care and I tried my best to not stutter through my answer. Again, I can only ever be honest with her.

"Too long, too boring."

She hummed in agreement.

"How was yours?" I asked and it was almost as if she did a double take. As if no one had ever asked her that before. Her features smoothed out as she said, "Boring as well."

Small talk, I was having small talk with Bella Swan.

Our conversations from then on were varied, but I did most of the talking. I tried to steer the conversation to her, but she always redirected it with more and more questions.

What movie makes you cry? _The Graduate._

What do you want to be doing when you're forty? _I can't picture myself past twenty-five._

Have you ever tried to kill yourself? _Once unintentionally. I think it was unintentional._

I only know this about Bella Swan:

She always wears a sweater or sweatshirt, no matter the weather. She doesn't sleep—she's a night owl. She hates school, she hates being up with the sun.

"The night is so much quieter," she had said, her small hand gesturing towards the empty street. "Everything is more manageable, more beautiful."

"Like the stars," I'd added and she whipped around to face me. This was the first time she faced me, the first time I'd gotten to really study her face. Her lips were parted, her eyes on me as if she was trying to figure me out. I almost told her about my telescope. About my nighttime hobbies.

It was the closest I'd ever come to sharing that part of myself.

Who _was_ Bella? What was it about her that made me _want_ to tell her everything? For her to tell _me_ everything. I'm not just wanting her to fill the lonely space in me with skin on skin, a breathy moan in my mouth. There's something different. Don't get me wrong, I want her that way every time I watch her hips sway as she leaves me.

But I want to know what makes her laugh. What makes her cry.

What makes her _her_.

The want twists my insides but I do my best to not let it show.

I can never let it show.

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"Alice, which version of _Dream a Little Dream of Me_ is your favorite?"

She doesn't even have to think about it before she blurts, "Cass Eliot's, duh."

" _Hallelujah?_ "

"Leonard Cohen."

"No way, Jeff Buckley's is so much better."

"Okay, I know everyone is entitled to their own opinion but here is why you're wrong." She begins explaining it to me, as if her life depends on it.

I enjoy this game we play in study hall when we have nothing to do, mainly because Alice is fun as hell to talk to. She isn't shy, not at all. She won't hesitate to speak her mind but she's always kind about her disagreement, even when she's teasing me like she is now. I can see why Jasper likes her so much.

I'm trying to think of another song when my eyes are drawn to the open doorway, where Bella Swan stands in the dim glow of the hallway lights looking tired and dangerous and beautiful.

Our stares lock and she seems surprised at herself when a smirk forms on her violet lips before she's whirling around, her thick curtain of hair coming between us as she walks her usual slow, languid walk out of sight.

"Oh," Alice murmurs softly and I turn back to her, trying to slow my heartrate down.

"What?" I ask, a little too defensively. Her mouth is twisted into a grin that seems to grow by the second.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" The bell rings and she gets to her feet.

"What is?" She's already walking away. Her only response is the vague wave her hand over her head, gesturing to nothing in particular.

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For the first time in more than 300 years, a lunar eclipse is falling on the winter solstice. It doesn't seem like a big deal but to an astronomy nerd—it's thrilling, the shortest day of the year, the longest we could see the moon and it's going to burn orange for seventy-minutes. It'll be visible around 3am and as long as it's not cloudy, it will be visible even from major cities.

It's circled on my calendar and I'm anxious for it. It feels ominous, the date looming. Just a little more than two months away.

It's the same feeling I get when I shut my locker at school and I feel her before I see her. When she's parting the crowd like the red sea. The feeling I get when Bella Swan is looking right at me, a smirk poised on her dark lips and something fierce in her dark eyes. There's something about her, something otherworldly. A storm is coming and I feel like I'm about to be caught in it.

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 **Sorry this one is short, next one will be up in a few days weeeeeee**

 **What's** _ **your**_ **favorite version of** _ **hallelujah**_ **? (I agree with Edward—Jeff Buckley always)**


	7. andromeda

**Helllllllllloooo thank you all for reading, thank you LayAtHomeMom for rec-ing this at TLS. Wow xx**

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 **chapter seven: andromeda**

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It hasn't rained in a while, and if it has, it's usually in the morning and tapers off by the time I'm out of school. It's a relief, because even though clouds remain ever present, the sun is shining through more and more as the temperature slowly drops. Halloween is a clear night, the streets I walk every night are crawling with kids dressed as mummies and princesses and cowboys. Sounds of laughter float around me as I reach Bella, who for once is not looking up.

She's looking right at me and goddamn, she's grinning.

"Trick or treat," she says and holds out her hand. A caramel apple sucker rests in her palm. My favorite candy. I think I mentioned it to her once in passing.

"You're amazing," I breathe and she does this languid, full body shrug. Her expression isn't as dark as it usually is, her eyes shine bright with stars.

"Fan of Halloween?" I ask and she laughs.

"Hardly, can you hear all this noise?"

"But it's good noise. Like, happy noises. I think it adds to the evening."

A careful blush creeps up her neck as she hums, thoughtful.

"You keep surprising me, New Kid."

"I'm going to start calling _you_ names."

"Good luck with that."

We are shrouded in a comfortable silence for a good ten minutes until I notice her eyes directed upwards yet again. She's looking in the direction of the constellation Andromeda—or at least, that's the first one that comes to my mind.

"Andromeda is one of my favorites," I say and she flashes her gaze to meet mine, brows furrowed. "The constellation," I clarify, gesturing to where she was looking before. I keep talking, "I mean, she was chained to a rock, waiting to be sacrificed to a sea monster through no fault of her own and then Perseus just _happens_ upon her while he's invisible, kills the monster and does everything he can to marry her. And when she dies, she's placed among the stars, with her husband and her mother. I don't know, I feel like it's one of the better myths. And I'm rambling so I'll shut up now."

I fucked up.

Now she knows I'm a giant nerd and I'm nowhere near cool enough to be in her presence.

But Bella Swan looks like she could cry, those eyes turning into the murky depths of the Pacific Ocean.

"A true hero's love story," she murmurs. "Too bad that's all it is. A story."

"Still," I say, just because I feel the need to defend it.

"Let's face it, Andromeda probably _did_ deserve it and poor Perseus is fooled into trying to save her and she probably ended up getting them both killed. She dragged him down with her."

The bitterness in her tone is acid as she spits her words out, falling harshly into the cool air.

"Bella," I begin, though I'm not sure what my follow up is going to be. She spares me the trouble by throwing me a quick, watery smile.

"It is a good story, though."

And then she's disappearing across the street and I spend the night staring at Andromeda and Perseus and Cassiopeia through my Star Scanner until the sun starts to come up, willing it all to be real.

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"Andromeda is my favorite constellation," is Bella's form of greeting the next evening, her voice low. This offering of personal information bowls me over. "It's graceful, I don't know."

"I agree," I say, eager to contribute, to hear more.

She whispers, "thank you."

"What for?"

"For listening. For being here, I guess."

"I feel like I should be saying that to you."

Heart is pounding, oh, I am desperate to kiss her into next millennium. Bella shakes her head.

"I'm just here, I'm always just right here."

There's a harshness, a sadness to her voice that causes everything in me to sink.

She doesn't want to be here.

But still, tonight, she doesn't leave for a very long time. We don't talk, we just stare at the sky as if we both just need the other to know that we're here.

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I am starting to get used to the death glares Rosalie sends my way during lunch. Her stare burns holes into my skin for the five minutes Alice lingers at our table every day, grinning madly as Jasper the entire time. Jessica squirms in her presence and I can't understand why she's even sitting here, still. She has other friends all over the school but she always picks the seat next to Jasper.

I stand by my theory that she wants to claw her way out of the friendzone but Alice is making that impossible. She's all he talks about and I wonder if he's all Alice talks about, too. The irritated look on Rosalie's face that appears when Alice returns to her side might support that theory. Bella maintains strange detachment, her expression remaining entirely neutral all through the period, save for the occasional almost-smile I get when our eyes meet. I'd kill to know what she's thinking—her mind's impenetrability is similar to that of a steel gate without a key.

All these weeks talking to her, I don't really know anything about her. She remains this enigma that only seems to grow more and more mysterious the more we meet up. She always leaves so quickly I can't help but think that I say or do something to upset her. But then I'll get a smirk in the hallway or a glance during English and I can't help but feel that she's happy to see me.

Call it wishful thinking.

Call it delusion.

Either way, it's ruining my life.

I leave lunch early, needing to swing by the library before my next class. Bella had mentioned this book last night so of course I feel this desperation to read it even though she claims its girly, poetic garbage. _Echo_ she'd said it was called. Her eyes shined when she talked about it and I want to understand why.

Again, ruining my life.

The librarian eyes me skeptically when she scans the barcode at the top corner. I'm not sure what this book is about but it's got a girl on the front cover. I'm starting to feel self-conscious as I start to make my way to my locker. I'll leave the book there and read it at home. It's not very long and since I have so much time on my hands in the middle of the night, it'll be back on the shelf by tomorrow morning.

I flip through it as I walk through the empty halls, my eyes landing on one particular passage.

" _I wanted him to hold me, to take care of me. To make the pain dissolve away. I know that this was part of what had ruined everything but I wanted it once more anyway."_

My breath catches. Poetic, but not garbage. I wonder how much of this Bella Swan identifies with. I'm sad, distracted for the rest of the walk but I've just gotten my locker open when I feel a change in the air. It makes my head hurt.

"Edward," a voice nearly growls from beside me. It's Rosalie with her cold, angry eyes and her harshly painted mouth.

"Um," I stammer. She's truly scary—I can see why _she_ 's feared.

"Stop bothering Bella." My face ignites. "Stop going to find her at night."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I defend, indignant. She laughs and the sound is cruel.

"Oh, I think you do."

I don't want to feel this…shame. This embarrassment.

"She's never going to like you," Rosalie continues. "She's just too nice to tell you to get lost. Leave her alone."

Like a slap in the face.

"Fuck off, Rosalie," I spit, though my voice wavers. She smirks and her eyes darken.

"It's not my fault you've let this little crush get out of hand. I'm just trying to help." Her voice is too sweet, too artificial. I'm about to go off on her and she can tell. With one last glance, she sends a sneer my way and as soon as she turns, my locker door slams shut.

Right on my hand.

" _Fucking hell!"_ I scream as the metal makes contact before bouncing back.

I swear I hear her laughing.

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I spend my evening icing my swollen hand while it turns black and blue. I can barely make a fist. When Mom sees it she freaks the fuck out and calls Carlisle home to take a look at it.

"Nothing broken, just going to be sore," he says and Mom won't leave me alone about it.

"How did this happen?" she keeps demanding. Did I get into a fight? Am I being bullied? Am I on drugs?

"It was an accident," I tell her, though I get the sinking feeling that it wasn't.

I'll never be able to prove it, but Rosalie caused the door to slam on me. I know it.

I spend the night confining myself to my room, Rosalie's words turning themselves over and over in my mind.

 _She's never going to like you._

 _She's never going to like you._

 _She's never going to like you._

It shouldn't matter to me if she likes me or not, the ache in my chest should not hurt more than the ache in my hand. I don't know Bella Swan, she owes me nothing and I don't expect anything from her. It was just conversation. A way to pass the time.

A way to avoid wasting the evening like tonight, not falling asleep, staring past the posters on my wall. I don't open the book Bella recommended. My telescope sits untouched near my window, thunder booms overhead.

The storm rages all night, angry, confused and all-consuming of the world below it.

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 **Echo by Francesca Lia Block is one of my favorites. It's beautiful. Til Thursday, xo**


	8. cancer

**(guess who's back) (back again) (it's me) (tell a friend)**

 **Thanks for reading, for rec-ing this, for leaving reviews, for favorite-ing and following, you all blow me away xx**

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 **chapter eight: cancer**

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I'm exhausted and strung out. The color of my hand resembles a blueberry and I have to keep it held close to my chest so nobody bumps it in the hallway. Mom threw me worried glances the entire ride here and it just makes me want my own car that much more. I need a job.

I need a drink. A pill.

Anything.

Last night's storm is still lingering with heavy rain and an overcast sky. The weather matches my mood and it makes my chest heavy and tired. Everything feels dark. Hazy. I don't want to do anything but go to bed but the bell is ringing and it's too late to turn back now.

When I get to English, Bella Swan is standing at my desk, her eyes wild as they zero in on my hand. Her lips part as if she's about to speak, but no sound follows. She tugs on the hem of her sweater sleeve.

The sight of her bowls me over, like a wave crashing over my head and I can't seem to catch my breath.

 _She's never going to like you_.

I don't trust my voice; I don't trust the way it cracks when I'm upset. I don't want Bella to see my weaknesses.

Fuck, I have so many of them, they must be spilling out of be all the time.

 _She's never going to like you._

I want to flip my desk, I want to scream, I want to ask her why the _fuck wouldn't she like me?_

But Mrs. Hayes is telling us to put everything away because she's announcing a pop-quiz, so I don't do any of that. I sink down into my seat and I try to ignore Bella's hesitation as she does what she's told.

I exhale, trying to focus on the questions on the page in front of me but after a while, I can feel her stare on me. It burns, it electrifies. All of the universe is burning a hole in the side of my face. I can hear someone tapping their foot anxiously and Jessica pops her gum. Jasper's pencil squeaks against his paper. The room is closing in on me. I can feel the walls shrinking, the temperature rising simply because of Bella's stare.

I circle random answers before turning it in, claiming I need to use the restroom.

I hide out in the only stall for the remainder of the period, closing my eyes and trying to distract myself from the girl down the hall.

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"What happened to your hand?"

I consider telling Alice the truth, I trust her more than anyone else here but she's also close to Rosalie. Who knows what she'll do if Alice goes blabbing about me running my mouth. I might lose an entire arm.

So, I go halfsies.

"I accidentally closed it in my locker door."

Her eyes narrow. She doesn't buy it. Of course not. Alice isn't Jessica, who cooed over me when we passed each other in the hall, claiming we've all _been there, done that_. Alice can see the lie in my smile, hear it in my glib tone.

"I'm serious."

She hands me my pair of earbuds, already plugged into the splitter, as per our daily routine. She waits for me to put them on before she skips to the next track.

" _Liar_? Really?" I ask, my irritation evident as the Mumford and Sons song begins. Alice smirks, raising a challenging eyebrow and resting her chin in her hand. She's got a slew of gold bracelets on her wrist that _clink_ together, like a bell ringing at the start of a boxing match. I try my very best to ignore her.

We don't speak for the rest of the period; she just lets me stew in my dazed confusion while she alternates between songs about lying and melancholy ballads.

It's not helpful.

At all.

One night without a girl I barely know and I feel as if my entire fucking universe went to shit. All I can think about is her stupid eyes and her stupid mouth and the stupid way her voice sounds when she says my name.

Goddammit.

When the bell rings, Alice doesn't linger like she usually does and I'm alone when I walk into the bustling hallway, only to be met by an irritated looking Bella Swan. A hush falls over the crowd; I feel stares on me as I start in the direction of my next class. My entire body is aching to stop, to stand close to her but my last shreds of self-preservation keep me moving. She stays hot on my heels.

"What happened?" she's asking, her tone low. Dangerous. The hairs on the back of my neck raise.

"Don't worry about it."

"Have you seen a doctor? It looks really—"

If I didn't know any better, I could swear she sounds concerned.

 _She's never going to like you_.

I do, however, know better.

"Bella," I sigh, turning on her. She looks as if she's in complete agony. "It's fine, I'm fine, I just—"

I go silent when I see that Rosalie is standing just beyond Bella's left shoulder. A chill in the air. She senses this and whips around. They lock eyes and I hear several locker doors _slam_ , the lights buzz and flicker above us. Bella's stance hardens and I can see the way she sets her jaw.

Someone lets out a shout and suddenly, a gangly sophomore throws a punch, his fist connecting with the cheek of a senior on the lacrosse team.

All hell breaks the fuck loose.

People are screaming and notebook paper is fluttering to the ground around me. More contenders join in the fight and I hear teachers trying to break it up but I can't see any of them anywhere. Two girls next to me start calling each other _bitch slut whore_ and their respective friends jump to their aid. I feel like I'm in that scene in Mean Girls when the Burn Book gets published everywhere. We could really use Tim Meadows with a baseball bat right about now.

Through all of this, Bella and Rosalie remain where they are, unblinking and unwavering. Panic is starting to bubble in my chest and up my throat and if I don't get out of here, I'm afraid I'll vomit all over the heels of Bella's shiny, black boots. I've never felt this kind of anxiousness, the kind where it's almost as if I'm being torn in two and my head is spinning a mile a minute.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice strangled and not at all how I want it to sound. "I'm sorry."

I make my escape to calculus.

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This is not the first spontaneous fight to happen at Forks High, according to Jessica. The lunchroom is somber, tables of people missing due to suspension or hospital visits. Teachers are everywhere, monitoring us like we're at recess in the third grade.

The last time things were like this was two years ago.

"The way I see it," Jessica begins, her voice a harsh whisper. "It was them."

Jasper sighs, "here we go."

"No, because when we were freshmen, Tyler Crowley called Rosalie a stuck up bitch. Six people ended up in the hospital. Tyler had to stop playing baseball because his elbow got so fucked up."

I look to Jasper for confirmation but he's got his hands over his face.

"I mean, yeah that could be seen as a totally isolated incident but it was literally right after he said it. The three of them just stood there, staring at him and everyone went _crazy_. Ask anyone, they'll tell you."

Looking around, I don't think I need to. It's plain as day on everyone's faces. Alice, Bella and Rosalie never show up to lunch, but it feels like everyone is holding a collective breath. One they don't let out for the rest of the day.

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I'm listening to Say Anything on full volume. Max Bemis is screaming about pain and hate and my eyes burn from staring at the wall for two hours. Mom had jumped on me right when I got home, having heard about what happened at school. Goddamn small town.

 _Were you involved?_ No.

 _Did you get hurt?_ No.

 _Who started it_? Don't know.

 _Do you need to go to Dr. Sheppard?_ Mom.

She finally left me alone but I had to put the music on to tune her out, sick of hearing her fuss around downstairs, of hearing her talk to herself.

I'm angry, way angrier than I usually am and it takes everything in me to not punch a hole in my wall with my good hand. I clench my fists, I make myself stand up, I start to pace.

I don't feel like I have control of myself anymore, I'm suddenly _desperate_ to get the hell out of Forks. To get the hell out of this country. This fucking planet.

I throw my shoes on. I'm leaving. I'll walk to California or Alabama or wherever the fuck.

This restless, painful energy is reaching a high. I'll burst, I can't breathe. I think of my Xanax, but this isn't a panic attack. I've had my fair share of those.

I don't know what this is.

But I have to leave.

I practically run down the stairs, I'm about to push my way out the door but then—

"Edward? I tried calling up to you. Your friend is here."

A soft laugh from Mom. Her, _oh, boys, you know how they are,_ laugh.

That nervous drive from before _whooshes_ out of me in one breath as Bella Swan says, "Hello."

She's standing in my kitchen, Carlisle sitting at the table next to her while Mom stirs whatever is cooking on the stove.

Bella looks so out of place, the walls are bright white, the cabinets oak. She's a stark contrast, her wild-eyed hurricane of a self in the middle of this plain, modern room. I'm too drained to feel nervous. To feel anything but tired.

"I'm sorry to bother you, I was just walking by and…" she looks uncertain as Mom _tsks_.

"You're not bothering anyone, hon," she says, throwing me a pointed look.

Welcome to tonight's episode of _Mom Misreads an Awkward Situation_.

She's jumping to the conclusion that Bella and I have a thing. She's so desperate for me to experience normal social interaction that she's seeing what isn't there.

"Can I talk to you?" I say, my voice rough and Bella swallows thickly, nodding. I try to keep my breathing steady as I lead her out the front door, into the brisk air and away from my mother's prying.

"I'm sorry for just showing up here," Bella says, her eyes on the pavement below her feet. "I just…I know Rosalie talked to you the other day. I know she…I'm just, I'm sorry. So sorry that happened. Things are…complicated and she's just doing what she's supposed to, I guess."

She looks up at me from under those thick eyelashes, her brows pushed together, lip getting sucked between her teeth.

My heart is hammering because it seems like Bella Swan is _worried about me_.

"What does that mean?"

Her shoulders sag and she whispers, "I don't know."

"That isn't helpful. I don't understand."

"I don't either. This is all kind of…new for me."

"What is?"

She blushes fiercely, avoiding my stare and my heart keeps kicking the shit out of itself.

"I just like talking to you," she says quickly. "I'd like to…keep talking to you, if that's okay?"

I almost laugh in her face from the sheer insanity of what she's just said. She acts like she doesn't know my _days_ revolve around her.

"I'd…like that," is all I manage to get out and oh, god, her smile is so slight but it hits me hard.

"Thank you, Edward," she breathes, her hand reaching up to brush lightly against my cheek, her skin cool against mine. Just as quickly as my eyes drift closed at the contact, she's walking away, not turning back as she heads down the darkening street.

The stars are peeking their way out from behind the clouds, the air is clear. I can see the edges of Cancer coming into focus. The story goes that Hera sent the crab, Karkinos, to fight Heracles, to distract him and put him at a disadvantage in battle. Heracles kicked Karkinos so hard that it was propelled into the sky, becoming a part of the stars itself. Hera's wrath, her spite, was not enough to deter him.

The wind blows and the clouds fade a little more, the night quiet and calm at last.

I inhale.

Exhale.

Smile.

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 **Yay things start picking up wee wee weeeeeee next chapter will be up Monday xx**


	9. full moon

**Sorry this is so short and that it's a day late. Thank you for reading, reviewing and recommending this. All my love.**

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 **chapter nine: full moon**

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The air is cold in my lungs as I push the front door open but thankfully the sun is muted behind a hazy sky. It's too early to be up on a Saturday, just past 8 o'clock but Jasper called me with an emergency twenty minutes ago. Now, he's drumming his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel while his car idles in the middle of my driveway. I try my best to fight a yawn, the two hours of sleep I got last night sits heavy on my chest as I drag myself to the passenger side door.

"I need coffee," I groan, dropping into the seat next to him. He nods quickly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm working on it."

"What's the big emergency?"

"I think I'm going on a date with Alice," he nearly shouts, his face simultaneously paling and reddening. My eyes widen, this news shaking the exhaustion off of me.

" _What?_ "

"We were just talking last night; you know how we've been talking on the phone?" I nod, having dealt with his anxiety over calling her for the first time over a week ago.

"Okay, well she was telling me about this band that she loves and about how they're playing in PA tonight and that she doesn't have anyone to go with and my idiot ass was like, oh I love them, I was thinking about going if you want to go together. AND THEN SHE SAID YES AND DUDE, I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT BAND IT IS. SO LONG STORY SHORT, I GET TO LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE ON MY FIRST AND PROBABLY LAST NIGHT WITH THE LOVE OF MY LIFE."

I laugh so hard that I cry as Jasper breathes heavily the entire way back to his house. He keeps throwing me betrayed glances and when he parks in the street in front of a small, brick ranch, he looks as though he could die on the spot. I take a deep, shaky breath.

"Okay, first of all, you need to chill the fuck out, you're gonna kill yourself. Secondly, we'll figure it out. Don't worry. Just take me to a computer." He nods solemnly and pulls the key out of his ignition.

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Two hours later, we're laying on his living room floor and I've had almost an entire pot of coffee to myself. I'm jittery, my eyes scanning the patterns in his ceiling. After some minor Googling of events going on tonight in Port Angeles, the discovered that the name of the band is Bad Bad Hats, which is completely ridiculous but thankfully, their discography is pretty minimal. We've been listening to it on repeat so he can learn the words.

Some of the songs are familiar, having heard them during my study hall listening sessions with Alice over the last few months, I recognized it at first by one of the album covers—a full moon.

A little over a month until the eclipse, I've started a countdown and am scouring forums and discussion boards for any information I can find on optimal viewing times. I've been checking eBay for some better telescopes.

I'd mentioned it to Bella the other night when the moon was unobstructed by clouds and was shining brightly in the dark sky. She'd closed her eyes, fighting a frown.

"It feels ominous," she'd whispered.

"I think it's exciting," I'd told her.

"I'm afraid."

I went on to explain the science of lunar eclipses, that it's just a shadow and temporary and then after, everything will go back to normal.

"What if it changes everything?"

I placed a tentative hand on hers. Her eyes shone. "It won't," I assured her. "It won't."

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"Alice and Jasper went on a date," I say as greeting. Bella grins.

"It's wild," she says softly, shaking her head.

"We spent all day listening to Bad Bad Hats."

"I feel like I've spent all week listening to them," she counters, rolling her eyes. I take my seat next to her just as a gust of biting, icy wind hits us. While I shudder, Bella shakes and doesn't stop. Not matter how much she tries to hid her quivering hands and chattering teeth under amusement over our friends, she fails miserably.

"Fuck, it's cold," I say as the wind blows more. She bites her lip and furrows her brows, at war with herself over something.

She gets to her feet and my heart sinks. Is she going to leave so soon? It's only going to get colder, are these nights coming to an end? For the first time ever, she looks at me over her shoulder, uncertainty radiating from every part of her.

"Um, follow me, if you want."

I trail behind her as we take her usual route between the two houses, taking a turn to the left once we clear them and we find ourselves on a pseudo-path through a small patch of forest. It's so dark, I keep stumbling over tree roots but Bella doesn't seem to notice. She keeps looking at me nervously.

When there's finally a break in the trees, we come across a single, shabby, white house. There's a light on that casts a yellow glow across the yard and makes the girl in front of me look even more ethereal than she usually does.

"Where are we going?" I ask, not able to help myself anymore. She gives me a timid smile and keeps walking until we reach the side of the house and a cement staircase leading to a door with peeling paint. Her hand reaches for the knob, turning it. Inside, she flips on a light switch and I feel as if I've entered another world.

"Um, this is, um, my room," she mutters, stepping to the side to let me in. I take a breath, a floral scent hitting me hard as I step inside. The best word I can think of to describe Bella Swan's room is _lush_. She's covered the walls and the ceiling with dark sheets and tapestries, intricate mandala patterns on most of them. She doesn't have an overhead light, or even a lamp, she's got lanterns and twinkle lights strung up all over, illuminating a plush, navy rug and a huge, overflowing book case. Her bed (oh god, her bed) is pushed up against one wall, looking rumpled and there are more books piled on it. She stands in the center of the room, twisting her hands together.

"Bella, this is amazing," I sigh because I've never been in a cozier room in my entire life. I feel like I could _actually sleep_ here.

"Thanks," she says quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You can…sit down." She gestures to the bed, our faces turning red simultaneously. I perch myself on the edge, trying my best to not disturb the stack of books next to me. I look at the titles, none of which I recognize. I look up to her, ready to ask about them but she's moving languidly around the room, straightening things up and finally bending over to a small stereo next to the bed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she turns it on. Piano keys hit poignantly as a melancholy voice floats in the air, _you have haunted me all my life_.

I'm struck by how good this moment feels, how calming her presence is in this room, when it's just the two of us. I'd give anything to curl myself around her and drift asleep with my face in her neck.

"What?" she asks, self-conscious under my stare and I can't stop my grin.

"Have you read all these books?" I ask, my smile stuck in place. She shakes her head.

"No, but I make sure I have enough so that I never run out."

"What are you reading now?"

"It's called _Falling into Place_. It's really sad. But really well written. And I'm trying to get through _War and Peace_ but it's like pulling teeth."

"Then why read it?"

"It's a classic. It's important and I want to know why."

"Sounds like a lot of work," I murmur and she shrugs.

"I have a lot of time on my hands."

We smile at each other and she asks, "do you want any tea? It's chamomile."

"That would be nice," I reply and she's across the room then, fussing with a kettle and a hot plate.

I'm in her bedroom, she's making me _tea_.

I feel like I'm the Twilight-Zone.

When she hands me the steaming mug moments later, contentment in her starry eyes, my heart sputters to a stop.

I'm falling in love with her and I'm not sure if I'll be able to survive it.

Her lips purse, she blows on her tea, steam drifting towards me and all I can see is her mouth, her full lips and I am certain then.

Yup, if I fall in love with her, it'll be more sky diving without a parachute.

And it will definitely kill me.

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 **I'm going to be in Boston for about a week so the next update won't be until next Wednesday. I'm sorry for the future delay. Answers will start coming soon, I promise.**


	10. echo

**Wow I am SO sorry for the delay. Life got messy, you know? Thank you for sticking with this, for reading and reviewing, for recommending it to others. You all rock.**

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 **chapter ten: echo**

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Monday morning comes too brightly, even though the sky is heavy and gray. I'd spent much of the night before in Bella's room again, this time watching _The Shining_. Once it ended, I left, afraid of overstaying my welcome.

"My dad will be off work soon," she'd said, the edge of her thumb between her teeth as her eyes moved between me and the clock. A little after one. Still early by my book.

I wanted more than anything to stay, to curl up next to her under the soft cotton of her quilt and fall asleep. But instead, I'd made my way home, hands in my pockets as the wind howled around me. My face was numb and then burning with the sudden heat of home as I snuck back up to my room.

Instead of stargazing, I'd picked up the book she'd recommended days ago. _Echo_.

It's a little reminiscent of the myth but it's very subtle, the story hidden in metaphor and prose. Originally, Echo was a mountain nymph who, as was typically the case it feels like, fell victim to Hera's wrath over Zeus.

Hera and Zeus fucked _so_ much up.

 _SO much._

Anyways, Hera makes it so Echo can only repeat the last few words spoken to her. That means that when Echo met Narcissus and fell in love with him, she was unable to tell him how she felt and was forced to watch him as he fell in love with himself instead.

Tragic stuff.

I fell asleep about halfway through the book itself, as this version of Echo is struggling to find her self-worth.

I know the feeling. It's exhausting.

So, this morning I'm slow going, drowsy and more irritable than usual. On the way to school, I do my best to tune out Mom's rambling about her schedule for the day. I hate when she talks to herself aloud, it's like a fly buzzing in your ear. She mentions a Dr. Sheppard appointment made for next week and I fight a groan as the dread takes root in my chest.

My bad mood continues well into third period, Bella's presence in the room during first period couldn't bring me out of it. No smile today, her head already resting on the desk. Alice plays upbeat music during study hall and I avoid talking to her by pretending to do math homework.

In actuality, I try to imagine Bella sitting cross legged on her bed.

She's smiling at me, rolling her eyes because I talk too fucking much.

She tugs a hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face while her fingers tangle themselves in the chocolate waves.

My heart rate starts to slow when her voice echoes through my mind.

 _Is the tea okay?_

 _You really haven't seen that movie?_

 _I never knew my mom._

 _Your eyes are greener than the trees._

 _You have two freckles on your cheek, did you know that?_

 _How_ are _you?_

Deep breaths.

No one's ever looked at me as closely as she does. She notices those small details like it isn't a big deal, like I don't get bowled over with emotion every time she says anything at all to me.

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Under the harsh fluorescent lights of the cafeteria, she practically glows when she gives me small smile. It lasts for only a split second before Rosalie is at her side, her mouth already moving a million miles a minute. I watch her lower herself, her head in her arms and her hair hiding her from everyone. Rosalie's gaze meets mine and burst of hatred comes with it. My face burns under her scrutiny but thankfully, Jasper sets his tray down across from me, followed by Jessica's bubble gum voice floating around us. She sits next to me, going on and on about something that she saw on TV last night and I can tell that Jasper has something to say but he's too polite to interrupt her. Instead, he gums his lips and bounces his leg until Jess finally says, "I mean, can you believe that? How was your weekend?"

In a _whoosh_ , Jasper exhales, "amazing. It was amazing."

"What did you do?" Jess asks brightly. I cringe internally because she's not going to like the answer.

"I, um, went to a concert. With Alice," he says, hesitating because Jess' face drains of color so quickly it's a little scary. I try to put myself in the mindset that I'll need to catch her if she faints.

"Oh," she murmurs, trying to play it cool. "So the band was good?"

"Yeah, they were great." Jasper and I exchange a look, remembering the hours spent listening to them before the show.

"Good," she says with a forced smile. "I forgot to get a drink, I'll be right back."

Once she's out of earshot, I whisper, "still think she's not into you?"

Jasper grimaces.

"That was brutal but it can't be helped."

"Harsh. Anyways, how was it actually?"

"She's incredible. So funny, so sweet and she doesn't take any shit from anyone. This drunk guy nearly ran her over on his way back to his friends and she _shoved_ him. It was crazy. She's really strong."

I laugh, trying to picture all 90 pounds of her beating on some guy three times her size.

"Plus, she _kissed me_." His cheeks turn pink; his smile becomes impossibly brighter. Poor sucker is in love.

"That's great, man," I say, genuinely happy for him, albeit a little jealous because I can barely even bring myself to _touch_ Bella Swan, let alone press my mouth to hers.

"I just…I don't know where we stand. What if it was just a onetime thing?" He picks nervously at his foam tray, ignoring the wilted salad on top of it.

"Well, why don't you ask her?" I jerk my chin, gesturing for him to turn around so he can see Alice floating towards us, finger twirling her ever-present ear buds.

"Is anyone sitting here?" she trills and Jasper stares at her, open-mouthed.

"Go for it," I say for his sake and as soon as she settles into the seat next to him, the room falls into a dead silence for just a few seconds before hushed chatter resumes. Jess comes back, a water bottle in hand, and grabs her things, throwing Jasper devastated glances her entire walk across the room, where her other friends are whispering behind cupped hands.

I wait for Alice to ask, "is this okay?" but she never utters those words. She just smiles at Jasper, an ear bud dangling from her finger for him to take.

The exchange seems intimate and I have to look away, just in time to see Rosalie tapping her fingers on her table, her mouth twisted into a terrible sneer as she speaks so quickly to Bella that I can barely see her mouth move. Bella never looks up; she remains where she is even when the bell rings.

The first snow of the season begins, falling in soggy, wet clumps and sticking to everything immediately.

It's too heavy. It's suffocating to stare at.

So, I look away.

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 **Next chapter will be up on Wednesday! Thank you for reading this overly short chapter. xx**


	11. hypnos

**Wow! This was voted as one of the top fav fic dive stories for Feb over at ADF! Thank you thank you thank you xx**

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 **chapter eleven: hypnos**

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I hate the waiting room in Dr. Sheppard's office. Right near the hospital, it's in an old brick building that's overgrown with trees. Now, though, it's covered in snow. It hasn't slowed down much over the last few days and Carlisle keeps mentioning how unusual it is to get more than a couple of inches at a time.

My seat by the window is cold but it's the only place to sit. My foot taps on the creaky hardwood floor, in time with the second hand on the clock on the wall across the room. I'm fifteen minutes early because my mom claimed she had to work. Carlisle is supposed to come get me during his lunch break.

I really fucking need my own car.

Or to stop seeing this quack.

I check the clock again. 10:20 am.

I should be in study hall by now, listening to the new Tancred album with Alice.

I didn't go to school at all so I didn't see Bella during first period like I usually do and it's making me agitated. I didn't tell her I was going to miss, so I wonder if she noticed that I wasn't there. I fantasize about the bell ringing and she glances over her shoulder to catch my eye, disappointment evident on her face when she realizes I'm not coming.

The reality is most likely that she registered my absence and felt nothing, if she even noticed at all.

The thought depresses me.

"You can come back now, Edward." Dr. Sheppard's voice startles me as she appears at the end of the hallway in a severe, black pantsuit. I blink slowly before following her down the dimly lit hall to her office.

We each take our positions: me, hunched over on the sofa in the corner, defensive and angry while she sits ramrod straight in her leather desk chair, glasses on and eyebrows raised. I stare the way her hair is pulled back so tightly that I can see the way her skin clings to her skull.

Ugh.

"How are you doing, Edward?" she asks, her tone clinical. It's nothing like the soft, low register of Bella's voice when she wonders how I am. How her cheeks are full and red and her eyes are always kind, even when she's trying to be cold and detached, to keep up the façade she displays in the halls at school. The façade she drops only for me.

"Fine," I say with a shake of my head. She scribbles a note.

"How is the depression?"

"I'm not depressed."

"How is the anxiety?"

"Endless. I need more Xanax," I say dryly. She gives me a pointed look.

"How is school? Are you making friends?"

 _Friends_.

Alice's music and Jasper's easy laugh come to mind but fade at the thought of spending my evenings with Bella Swan's cautious smile and quick wit.

I'm imagining myself back in her room, two nights ago, where she's burning incense and she's got a record spinning somewhere and she's singing along to it like she's Loretta Lynn herself. And though over the course of the last week I've gotten maybe like, twelve hours of sleep total, I am so incandescently happy. Contentment warms me as she lets her eyes close and she's smiling while she's singing, "and then I saw you." And I can't help but think that maybe I could just—

"Edward?"

Back in the drafty office. Back under Dr. Sheppard's scrutiny. She purses her lips.

"Where did you go?" she asks, her tone vaguely accusing. I roll my eyes.

"Nowhere, I just zoned out. I'm tired." I fake a yawn that turns into a real yawn that's so intense my eyes water. Her pen scratches against the yellow legal pad in her lap.

"Have you been sleeping?"

"Yes." Not a lie.

"At least six to seven hours a night?"

"Nobody needs that much sleep," I scoff and she makes another note.

"That's a healthy amount of sleep. Your mother says you're still only sleeping an hour or two at night."

"My mom doesn't know shit," I nearly scream, my face growing red. Has Mom been _spying_ on me?

"If you started sleeping, some of the anxiety and depression could lessen." She doesn't pause long enough for me to deny it. "I'm going to prescribe you some meds to help you fall asleep and stay asleep. It's up to you to take it, to want to get better. You can deny it all you want but we both know that your overdose wasn't completely an accident."

My heart pounds and my eyes burn as the walls feel like they're closing in on me.

"Did nothing strike a chord with you those days you were in the hospital out east?" She's pushing me on purpose. She's switching her tactic.

It's working.

I grab the prescription for the Ambien from her on my way out the door. I don't stop until I hit the cold air in the parking lot, snow coming down fast. Panic bubbles in my chest.

For the first time in a very long time, I start to cry.

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The overdose was an accident. It really was. I didn't know what I was taking, I didn't know how strong it was. But I guess that recklessness, that lack of giving a shit is the same thing as choosing to die.

I don't really remember much about those four days afterwards, everything is fuzzy. I know that someone dropped me off at the emergency room but didn't stay with me. They were probably afraid of getting into trouble. My mom was the first thing I saw when I woke up later that night, tear stained and _pissed_. I was still coughing up charcoal or something from when they pumped my stomach and I felt so fucking _shitty_. That was when I really wanted to die. I couldn't eat right for weeks. Even though I kept telling them it wasn't necessary, they put me on suicide watch and I was checked into the psych ward. Mom visited every day but I never saw anyone from school. It was a lot of journaling, sleeping, therapy and coloring.

It sounds stupid but the coloring was really fucking relaxing.

I really just wish I could go back to that hospital, the clean white room with an endless supply of colored pencils and mandalas to fill in.

I can't help but wonder if I could ever feel that calm again, if I could actually _get better_.

Is it possible that life could be different from how it is now? How it's always been for me? Would I feel well rested and excited for the day and for the future? Would I want to go to college and travel and make friends?

Right now, that all sounds exhausting. I close my eyes, feeling heavy.

A hand covers mine.

"Edward? Are you okay?"

For the first time ever, I'd beaten Bella to the bench. She's taken a seat next to me and when I open my eyes again, she's biting her lip, concern etched across her face.

I let out a shaky breath. I've been on edge all day, ever since Carlisle found me in the lobby of the hospital on his way out to get me. I'd walked over when the cold had gotten too much to take. I stayed in bed the rest of the day, unable to get warm and trying to avoid fighting with Mom about whether or not she's been keeping tabs on me.

"You weren't at school today," Bella whispers, her fingers warming mine.

"I had a doctor's appointment," I tell her quietly.

God, I want to hug her. I want her to hold me tightly and tug her fingers through my hair and tell me that everything is going to be fine.

"Is everything okay?"

 _No. Nothing is okay. I feel like my life is falling apart and you're the only fucking thing that makes me happy._

"Yeah, just a routine thing," I say because it's not exactly a lie. My voice cracks. I wince.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," she says, eyes wide and focused only on me. "But I'm here…if you want to tell me about it."

 _Trust her trust her trust her. Be honest and open for once in your goddamn life._

 _She's the only one that's ever mattered enough._

"My doctor wants me to take stuff to help me sleep. She says that it'll...fix a lot of issues in my life if I start to sleep more. She says it's up to me to take it but…I don't know if I want to." I don't like how thick my voice sounds, how it wavers.

Bella closes her eyes, swallowing.

"Why wouldn't you take it?" Her voice is barely there.

 _Trust her_.

"Because if I take it, I won't see you at night."

The honesty of what I've just said hangs heavily over us, ready to crush us.

All of the breath leaves her body as she turns to me, eyes _terrified_ and the wind starts whipping her hair around her face. It's so strong I'm afraid she's going to blow away.

"Edward, you—you should take it. You should take your meds."

"But—" She cuts me off, shaking her head.

"You need to put yourself first. You shouldn't—we shouldn't be hanging out anyways."

Pain, endless pain.

"You're the best person I know. I want to keep seeing you, I need to keep seeing you."

The desperation in my voice is humiliating but she's starting to stand. Starting to leave.

"I'm not what you think I am, Edward," she says with so much conviction it cuts me to the bone. "Please, stop coming here. Take your medicine, please. It's best we stop seeing each other."

Her hand cups my cheek, much like that night so many weeks ago in front of my house, except this time it feels like a goodbye. An ending.

"Goodnight, Edward," she whispers, her lips ghosting my other cheek before she starts to step back.

And then I'm alone.

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 **See you next week xx**


	12. psyche

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 **chapter twelve: psyche**

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She doesn't come back. I stay on the bench, my feet glued to the ground even though the wind is biting, willing me to go home.

But I don't. I wait, I wait through frozen air, sleet coming down sideways and dark, ominous clouds.

I wait until it's past two in the morning, when my fingers are blue and my lungs can't find air anymore.

At home, I don't bother trying to be quiet or sneaky or…anything. I turn on the shower and stand under the spray while my tense muscles burn, burn, burn.

Rejection stings at first, and I can't even really say that I was rejected.

I don't know what happened.

I took a chance, I opened up and it ruined _everything_.

When the water starts to grow cooler, I drag myself back to my room, checking the window before falling into bed. Nothing but clouds, not a star in sight. The wind howls, making tree branches scratch against the panes of glass.

I don't know if I fall asleep at some point.

I don't know if it makes a difference.

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Mom is cursing the schools for not closing. A slick layer of ice covers everything, especially the roads. She drives at five miles an hour and I can't help but wish we could just swerve into a tree.

My anxiety over seeing Bella Swan during first period is stifling. I'm overly aware of how shitty I look, with my hair sticking up all over the place to the bruise-colored smudges under my eyes. I'm getting a headache behind my eyes.

I'm halfway to the front doors of the school when I step on a patch of ice. Thankfully, my shoulder hits the pavement before my head and some freshman girl is crouching over me, asking if I'm okay.

I don't want to get up.

I want to be left on the ground until I'm just fucking frozen solid.

But the freshman won't leave me alone so I have to pick myself up, ignoring the shooting pain in my shoulder when I do. Satisfied that I'm not going to die on the sidewalk, the girl moves on and she's too busy looking at the ground to notice Bella, who is standing no more than fifteen feet away, her eyes stuck on me.

She looks as if she could cry.

But that expression vanishes so quickly that I'm not even sure it was there at all. It's replaced with a cool gaze, mouth in a tight line.

In a word: disinterested.

I watch her pull the hood on her coat up, covering her face, as she walks away. Away from the school, away from me.

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She doesn't come back. I stare at her empty desk all through English, willing her to appear, my desperation morphing into an intense anxiety that squeezes my chest and stunts my breathing.

I can't slow my heartrate, even in study hall as Alice is shooting me concerned glances. I wonder what Bella's said to her. I'm too afraid to ask.

I don't participate in her and Jasper's conversation at lunch and they're both too in love with each other to notice my silence.

But Rosalie notices it. She catches my eye across the room and god, her smirk is so _smug_. She's leaning over a table she isn't usually at, her red fingernails tapping rapidly in front of Emmett McCarty, captain of the football team and Nicest Guy on Earth.

He says something to her and she throws her head back in laughter, but she keeps her eyes on me.

 _She's never going to like you._

I get it, Rosalie. You've made your point.

You were right.

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The bench is empty when I reach it tonight, and many nights after. I keep going back, just in case, just to see if she's changed her mind. It doesn't matter that she avoids me like the plague at school. It doesn't matter that most nights it's sleeting or the wind is howling. There is never a break in the clouds. There are no stars for me to find.

I get frustrated, tearing my hands through my hair too roughly far too often. She'd told me that she isn't what I think she is.

So what is she? A liar? A coward?

In my mind, she'd been this magic enigma, this mystery I wanted to devour and take in with more passion and intensity than I'd ever felt before. And maybe that's what I was falling in love with, just an idea of her. I try to convince myself of that as I walk home. I push everything she's ever said to me out of my mind, every understanding hum, every vibration of her laugh.

She's just a girl, though. Nothing more.

Back in my room, I check the sky again, just in case.

Heavy clouds.

Heavy heart, heavy shoulders, heavy feet, heavy soul.

I dig in the drawer of my nightstand, throwing old papers and receipts and CDs out of the way until I find the orange bottle buried at the bottom.

The tiny white pills rattle around as I twist the lid off, checking the dosage on the side. Two pills at bedtime.

I take three and close my eyes.

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 **Short but didn't want to draw it out too much, thanks for sticking with this.**


	13. ares

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 **chapter thirteen: ares**

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The thing about medication-induced sleep is that it isn't really restful. There's a grogginess that lasts throughout the day, a painful kind of nausea in your stomach when you wake up.

I've gone from sleeping an hour a night to almost twelve hours. I go to bed right after dinner. When Mom asks if I'm okay, a voice that doesn't sound like my own snaps at her.

"You wanted me to sleep, so that's what I'm doing."

I'm getting really good at sleeping.

I wonder if Dr. Sheppard will diagnose me with Borderline Personality Disorder at our next meeting. I can't see things as having gray areas. I either sleep too much or not at all.

The sky won't clear. It's angry and gray and painful. I used to walk at night, at first to the bench but tired of the constant disappointment of finding it empty, I ended up just wandering town, wandering the woods, wandering _anywhere_. I hoped a truck would run me down, that I'd get mauled by a bear, just something to end this dread. I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn't want to go home, I didn't want to walk anymore, and there were no stars to distract me.

So I slept. When you're sleeping, you don't feel lonely or upset or empty.

Sometimes I dream. They mostly involve Bella Swan and between the dream itself and waking up and remembering it wasn't real, I get a brief moment of happiness. The pain that follows is excruciating.

And it's not like I have any friends to notice how I'm doing anyways. I'll occasionally grab a burger or something with Jasper on a Saturday afternoon but he's usually so busy being Mr. Alice Brandon that his head is somewhere else.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for him. I am. I spend lunch third-wheeling them because Jessica doesn't sit with us anymore and Alice _does_ make an effort to include me but I can't really be bothered. I'm too preoccupied with staring at the table at the back of the room to participate in whatever it is they're talking about.

Every day Rosalie spends her time whispering in Emmett's ear and Bella sits two seats away, head on the table. Her head is always down when I see her, even in class.

I haven't seen her face in weeks.

I miss her more than I've ever missed anyone.

It's agony.

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Jasper has mustard on his lip; stuck in the moustache he's trying to grow. It's all I can focus on. The plate of fries in front of me sits untouched. I don't have much of an appetite lately.

"Look, it's Emmett," he says suddenly, mouth full of cheeseburger. I glance over my shoulder and sure enough, there he is, all muscle and smiles as he places an order to go.

"Poor guy," Jasper says and I scoff. He looks like he's on the top of the fucking world. "I'm serious. It's Rosalie's thing. In two months he'll be wishing he never caught her eye."

Emmett's smile is blinding.

I hate it.

"It's like she's got him under a spell."

I wait for him to deny it—to tell me that I'm just as bad as Jessica and her witch rumors.

But he doesn't. His ears turn red and he goes back to his food. A big booming laugh from Emmett as the cashier behind the counter grins at him, handing over a greasy, brown paper bag. I've seen his smile plenty, all dimples and straight white teeth—he's the most well-liked guy at Forks High School and it's because of his good-natured disposition.

But there's something off in his smile now, like it's not his own.

"You know something," I say to Jasper. His eyes widen. "Alice told you something."

The guilty sag of his shoulders confirms my suspicions.

"Keep your voice down," he hisses, looking around as if everyone is hanging on his every word.

"What the hell is going on?" I hiss right back.

"Nothing!" His answer is too quick. Anger boils in my chest—hasn't he seen _any_ of what I've become over the last few weeks?

"I don't need to be lied to," I snap, head spinning.

"Edward, _wait_."

But I can't do anymore waiting. I throw money towards the now-cold fries, panic rising as I make my way out into the dark night.

It's so fucking cold and I have to fight against every instinct I have to go home and crawl back into bed. No, not tonight. I'm sick of being told half-truths, being left out with vague warnings.

I'm kicking gravel and ice as I trek down now familiar side streets. Do I give off an untrustworthy vibe? Am I seen as a fucking delicate flower or something?

Am I that weak? That worthless?

The wind cuts through my ratty coat.

I resist the urge to kick the bench as I pass it—the only place that ever really felt like home.

What a goddamn joke.

I push through waves of self-loathing as I make my way between sagging houses.

I swallow my anxiety when I reach the stairs that lead to her door, under a soft, yellow light.

My hand shakes as it connects with the peeling paint, the sound of my knocking echoing in the silent evening.

I knock and knock and knock, my fist aching, until—

"My dad's a cop, are you insane?"

The sound of Bella's voice almost brings me to my knees, even though it's full of irritation. She's pulling me inside her warm cave of a room and she's got something burning that smells like vanilla and Jeff Buckley is playing softly and oh, god, I am drowning in relief. I want to collapse on her bed.

"What are you doing here, Edward?" her voice, annoyed and uncertain, doesn't match the emotion in her eyes.

I find parts of myself there, among the darkness. Afraid, exhausted, but most of all, relieved.

Her hand twitches and she takes a shaky breath, we're so close and I want so badly to kiss her.

But she turns her head, eyes closing tightly, willing me away.

The thing is, I can't.

I can't leave, I can't go back out into the cold and leave her behind.

Not yet.

My icy hand finds the live heat of her cheek and she exhales slowly. I keep my voice low.

"I don't know what you are," I pause because she jerks away from me, her back pressing to the door, eyes blazing.

"Edward—"

"I don't know what you are, but I'm going to find out. And it's not going to change anything."

Her expression is challenging, indignant, but those eyes, those eyes are betraying her.

They say softly, _please._

"You don't know what you're saying."

"Yes I do."

"You don't, though!" her voice is shrill, frustrated.

"Is this all an act then?"

She blinks.

"Have you been putting on a front with me for the last few months? Has everything you said been a lie?"

Quietly, "no."

My heart thrums, determined to keep itself beating for the first time in so long.

"Then I'll see you soon. And when I do, it won't change anything."

And as I'm walking home, a new fire lit in me, I swear the sky starts to clear.

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 **Thanks for reading!**

 **This will probably end up being about 20 chapters long and I'm planning on having it finished by the start of May—ya girl is graduating and going to spain.**


	14. aletheia

**Hi. Oops. This is SO LATE. And my outline has been completely reworked. This chapter is short because I wanted to give you all** _ **something**_ **in the meantime. If you're still reading, I love you.**

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 **chapter fourteen: aletheia**

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A List of What Makes Bella Swan Different: by Edward Cullen

 _She doesn't sleep. Like ever, as far as I can tell._

 _She (and her friends) can make people fight each other for no reason_

 _Creepy vibes._

I've hit a standstill. A brick wall. Sure, Bella is weird as hell and possibly not completely human but I don't have any evidence. Just a hunch and a gut feeling.

A lot at stake and nothing to go on.

I've locked myself in my room for almost the entire weekend, not sleeping and running on this manic, desperate energy googling every creature I can think of.

She's not a vampire, I've seen the way she likes the sunshine on her cheeks. I've seen the way she wraps her lips around an apple.

Though the thought of those lips on my jugular isn't all that off-putting to me. I'm sick, it's fine. Everything is A-okay.

Then I thought, maybe she really is a witch. But it seems too cliché and underwhelming. Wouldn't more be happening? Wouldn't it be raining toads or something? Cauldrons in her room?

She's not a banshee, she's not the fucking Loch Ness Monster.

I've flown through books of mythologies from all over the world and while some seem to match, it's not perfect. It's not right.

It's not Bella Swan.

Maybe she can bring a wind, make lightning, but she's no Kitsune, the Japanese fox shapeshifter. I doubt she's a Valkyrie, sent here to choose whether to let me live or die through some sick kind of seduction—no matter how much it feels like she is.

I toss the book in my lap to the floor, the pen on my notebook clattering on the laminate. The sky is clear and thankfully dark enough to stargaze. I need to rid my head of all of this for a few moments, start fresh later.

I find Orion first and then move to Nyx. I don't know why but Nyx always makes me feel closer to Bella. The story of her, that shadowy figure born of chaos. Beautiful and feared and—

" _Nyx_ ," escapes my lips before I can stop it. Nyx, mother of sleep who runs the night. The darkness. The cosmos, the sky.

The weather, maybe.

It's an impossible idea, but it's an idea I'd always hoped to be true.

The factuality of the mythologies I'd spent so much time losing myself in.

People made from the stuff of stars.

My phone buzzes from my bedside table—probably Jasper, who has been calling me at least three times an hour since we met at the diner the other day.

For the first time, I answer it.

"Thank fuck you're alive," Jasper breathes, forgoing the _hello_ I'd always come to expect from him.

"She's Nyx," I say, forgoing it, too.

"Who's what?"

"She's…Bella…she's at least, she has part of Nyx in her. Doesn't she?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, dude."

"Nyx! The night! The stars!"

He doesn't understand. Whatever Alice has told him…she wasn't clear.

I have to be right.

Or I'm finally breaking. My mind is completely gone.

Either, way, something will end.

I could find the truth, or she could see me for how insane I actually am and I could just…disappear.

I hang up the phone, let Jasper's voice stop echoing in my ear.

If Bella's part of that…Alice has to be...what? Part of someone. Something.

The mythologies book is back in my hands in no time and my eyes are searching a sentence-a-second for the word _music._

And then, _Apollo_.

The god of music, truth and prophecy, healing, the sun and light.

Alice's smile.

Her ever present ear-buds.

Her knowing voice floating over me.

It would only make sense if Rosalie Hale was parts of Hera, perhaps, for her jealousy and her vengeful nature. Maybe Aphrodite for her beauty. Her vanity.

But how?

How would this make any goddamn sense?

Sure there are stories, stories of children of Gods and mortals. Achilles. Hercules.

But that's all they are.

Stories.

Right?

There's only one way to find out.

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 **til next time xx**


	15. anteros

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 **chapter fifteen: anteros**

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Bella Swan's door opens before my fist makes contact with it, as if she'd been waiting for me to show up.

Her tired, dark eyes show the anxiety hidden behind the smooth planes of her face, the tight line of her mouth and if that nervousness wasn't there, I could see how she could intimidate someone like, oh, Zeus, maybe.

My stomach is sour at the ridiculousness of that thought.

I wonder if there are any nice asylums around here or if I'm going to get stuck in some shithole with Nurse Ratched.

She steps aside, letting me past her and into her room. The adrenaline that got me here is twisting itself into horrific self-doubt and _how the fuck do I even bring this up_?

Who am I kidding?

Her stare gives me chills and I wait for those stormy eyes to turn to the starry ones I've been missing.

They don't, and we're silent for a long moment. I can feel her taking in the lines on my exhausted face, the rumpled state of my clothes, my missing winter coat. The tension in the air is heating the room.

Her fingers keep curling themselves into and out of the palm of her hand, her bottom lip is trying to find its way between her teeth.

Beautiful, nervous hell.

Can we just skip the whole _I think you're probably a goddess_ and go right to her either kicking me out or kissing me?

Kissing would be ideal, but it's not likely.

"So," she says at last, her voice shaky but still somehow firm, somehow intimidating.

"I…it doesn't matter," I say, because that's the only part of this that I know to be true.

"What?"

"What you are, I said it before and I mean it. It doesn't matter to me."

Her eyes change. Fury, darkness, but…hope.

There's hope trying to break the surface.

But her careful mask slides back into place and she turns away.

"I suppose you're right. It doesn't matter."

My heart thunders.

"I won't be here much longer anyways."

Crash, thump, silence in my chest.

"What?" I croak to her back, the sharp bones of her shoulders, the rigid set of them. And she's facing me again, her entire being _fire_.

"I'm _not going to be here_ and it _does_ matter, Edward. You don't know anything, you're naïve and—"

"I don't care if you're the entire _night_ , Bella," I grind out through my teeth. I'm a lot of things but naïve is not one of them.

She takes a step back, blinking rapidly.

"The stars, the sky, the wind, _whatever_. I don't know why you're driving me away—but I'm not going to be gotten rid of that easily. If you want me gone, then say it."

A beat.

"I want you gone," she whispers, eyes downcast.

"Make me believe you. _Mean it_."

The wind howls outside, I hear branches knocking against windows. She can't mean it. She doesn't mean it. I can feel it; I can see it in the hardness in her face. She's trying too hard to convince me. To convince herself. Everything in me is going to make her admit that maybe, just maybe she wants me to stay.

I take a step forward.

"I know what you are. I don't know how. Or why. But it's who you are and any part of you is a part that I don't want to lose. I've moved around a lot. I don't let people close to me. I leave without telling people, too. But…I wanted to let you in, Bella. I still want to. If you want to. You scare the hell out of me but not because you've got something cosmic in you. Because you're all I fucking think about and _you don't care._ "

My chest is heaving and her eyes are welling up with tears and there's a determined set of her jaw.

"How dare you say I don't care. Do you know what it's like to _worry_ about you? To know how much you need the stars at night and be too fucked up to give them to you? To wear my heart on my sleeve for the world to see but never know? To never be able to talk to anyone but fucking Rosalie or Alice about anything that matters? I have no idea what I'm doing, I've never done anything like this is my entire _existence_ , Edward. Don't you _dare_ tell me that I don't care."

I don't know what to say, I don't know if any words could do the flood of warmth in my chest justice, the rapid beating of my heart. But we're breathing so heavily and we're closer than we've been in weeks—not just emotionally but physically, I can feel the heat of her body and with a shaking hand, I finally fucking _touch her_. She lets out a breath and her eyes close, her brow furrowed and the electricity between us is so strong its almost painful.

"Bella, I…." my voice is barely there but she nods, answering my unasked question, and I let one hand grip her waist and the other finally, finally, _finally_ , tangle in that wild hair at the base of her neck. She lets out a whimper and I'm no longer breathing as I pull her to me, my lips pressing so hard to against hers that I'm convinced we'll taste blood. I'm frantic as her mouth starts to move against mine, lightheaded when I feel her nails trailing a path up and down my spine.

She's still not close enough, even as I wrap my arm around the small of her back and press her to me so that the length of her body is moving against mine, there's too much space. There's always too much space.

We break apart for air and shaking breaths pass between us, I'm trying to support her weight as she rests all of her against me but my legs are jelly, all of me is jelly. I start to stumble back, my legs hitting the edge of her mattress.

She looks up at me through her thick eyelashes and her hoarse whisper is enough to completely undo me.

"I don't want to stop." A pause. "But…I don't know if it will change anything. II don't know if I'll be able to…I can't make you any promises."

I consider this, I do, I try to think about what she's said but the closeness of her lips and skin and eyes is fogging my mind, fogging my everything.

There's only one thing that matters.

"Did you mean what you said? Do you care about me?"

She breathes, "Yes."

And it's enough for now.

We're falling backwards and I'm back on the only mattress I've ever been comfortable on with the only girl I've ever been comfortable with and she's straddling me but I can feel her apprehension as she presses her hips to mine and oh, god.

"I'm not very…experienced with this," she whispers and I want to laugh because even though this isn't this first girl I've been under, I have no idea what I'm doing because I've never been under Bella Swan.

I kiss her softer than the last time and her tongue swipes across my bottom lip but I need more pressure between us so hold her tightly and move her under me and her legs wrap around my waist while her hands start to find their way under the hem of my shirt.

Not very experienced my ass.

I move to my knees, hovering over her and her lips are puffy and her eyes are soft and I'm slowly pulling her shirt up, waiting for her to tell me to stop.

She doesn't and her sweater is off and Jesus Christ, she's not wearing anything underneath it—just soft curves and porcelain skin.

I let out a breath against the base of her neck. "Beautiful."

Across her collarbone, between her breasts, across her stomach.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

She's tugging at my shirt and I let her pull it off of me, pressing myself against her and finally feeling her skin against mine and she's pressing her hips to mine and I can't contain the groan that escapes me. Her eyes flash at the sound and suddenly she's pulling me into another deep kiss before I feel her fingers fidgeting with the button on my jeans.

"Are you sure?" I ask because I need her to be sure.

She works the button free and keeps her eyes on mine while she starts tugging the jeans from my waist.

Time moves fast. Her leggings are on the floor somewhere, no underwear in sight and my fingers are feeling how wet she is, her body reacting and sighs coming from her mouth and I could do this forever, watching her eyes close and lips part and the flush come to her chest and up her neck.

But she's already pushing my hands out of the way, pressing herself to me and I think about the condom I always keep in my wallet but I didn't think to bring it.

She's shaking her head at my hesitation and her voice is breathy and it's sends me over the edge.

"We don't need one…I won't….I can't get, you know," and her cheeks are red from more than intimacy and her uncertainty is just so _human_ , I wonder how much of her is like me and how much is Nyx herself.

I still have so many questions.

But questions will have to wait until later because I'm pushing into her and her nails are digging into my back.

"I'm sorry if it hurts, I can stop—"

"It doesn't hurt," she says quickly. "I just never knew it could…feel like this."

I kiss her and I feel all of her, I've connected with her—with the cosmos itself and the cosmos is shining with sweat and glowing with the smallest of smiles and I'd be embarrassed about coming so soon and not getting her there at all but when it happens she's looking at me so tenderly, the sky is clear outside her window and I know in my gut that Bella Swan is _happy_.


	16. aglaea

**Wow it has been SO LONG. I promise, promise PROMISE you I will not give up on this story—it will get completed. Since the last update, I've begun my first semester of graduate school and it is CRUSHING me. I don't have more than like ten minutes at a time to do anything but work on school stuff so this has been kind of on the backburner. I apologize, but here's this:**

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 **chapter sixteen: aglaea**

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I'm tracing circles on the soft skin of Bella's back, my eyes struggling to keep themselves open. She's breathing evenly but I can feel her eyes lashes moving against my chest, still awake.

"I should go soon. It's getting late. Or early," I say softly and she sits up, leaning forward on her elbows, lips puffy and eyes tired. She nods solemnly. I don't want to leave, to go back out into the cold December air and away from the literal goddess whose fingers are splaying themselves on the bare skin of my stomach.

"I'll see you in school, though," she says hoarsely and I can't stop my grin. She fights her own and rolls her eyes.

"Stop it," she mutters, tossing my sweater at me. I want to find a way to stay inside this moment forever. I take a mental picture of the extra tangles in her hair, the way the yellow light glows behind the curves of her body.

I just can't keep the smile off of my face as I put my clothes back on, Bella watching me with one corner of her mouth lifted, just slightly.

"Get out of here," she teases me and I take a step towards where she sits on her bed, bending down to place my lips lightly to her temple. Her eyes are wide when I pull away.

"What?" I ask, self-conscious and worried I overstepped.

She whispers, "that was nice," almost as if she's surprised, and maybe a little touched.

As I back out of the door, the cold hitting me like a brick and the stars bright above, her gaze doesn't change.

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Mom and Carlisle are suspicious when I'm downstairs ten minutes earlier than I usually am, growing silent as I enter the kitchen, coffee mugs halfway to their lips. I pour myself a cup of coffee and sit across from them at the table, Carlisle staring at me over his newspaper.

"Could you stop?" I say, though my voice isn't as irritated as I intend.

"You're up early," Mom says slowly, surprised. "Get a good night of sleep?"

I laugh because "no, not really."

I'd only gotten an hour or two.

Mom glances at Carlisle and he only shrugs before going back to his reading. Her gaze turns back to meet mine and I give her a smile. A grin, even.

Just to fuck with her.

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When Bella gets to first period, her smile lights up the room. It feels like the entire class holds their breath as she comes in through the door, her hair blowing back from the blast of the heater above her. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are dark but they're focused only on me and I nearly choke on my own caught breath.

Her spell remains cast over everyone for the remainder of the hour, myself included. Her happiness is a sight to behold, a change in the air, in the universe. Even our teacher seems distracted, stumbling her way through her lecture, casting uncomfortable glances towards the near-goddess on the far side of the room.

When the bell rings, she waits for me outside the door and Jasper smirks as he slips past me.

"Hi," I breathe to her and she bats her thick lashes before whispering a greeting back.

"You're going to give everyone a heart attack," I say and she rolls her eyes.

Before she's gone, she tosses over shoulder to me, "see you at lunch."

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Bella meets me in the lunch line, tossing an apple in the air and catching it over and over and over while I'm waiting on soggy pizza to be put on my tray.

"Do you ever eat?" I ask, and she just laughs.

"Sure," she says, her eyes on the apple.

"Do you need to eat?" My voice is lower, secretive. Her answering tone is amused.

"Of course, Edward. I'm a human being after all."

"I don't believe you," I tell her grin as we're paying for our food—a full tray for me and a small, red apple for her.

"No skin off my ass," she laughs and I feel like this is an entirely new person next to me. I've never seen her this open, this…carefree. She follows me to the table I share with Alice and Jasper, who both look up from Alice's iPod when we sit down.

"So," Alice says with a grin. Bella takes a bite of her apple.

"Yup," is all she responds but they act like they just had a full conversation as they smile at each other, a little dazed.

We fall into a content silence, me eating and Bella staring at me eating and it's all well and good until a shadow falls over us and we look up to find Rosalie Hale's furious glare.

"Is this how it is now?" she demands, her voice like ice with blue eyes to match her tone.

Bella and Alice exchange a look.

Rosalie stomps her foot, impatient. A few people around us look up, startled by the noise.

"Is it? Are you really going to choose _this_?" The disgust in her voice sinks my stomach like a stone.

"Rose, keep your voice down," Bella says through gritted teeth. There's a shift in the energy in the air. Goosebumps break out on my skin.

"Don't tell me what the fuck to do," Rosalie growls and the light above us flickers. I shoot a worried glance at Bella, who has her fists balled.

Alice gets up, moves to the blonde and touches her forearm. Rosalie relaxes slightly, for just a moment before she turns on her.

"I'm not staying here. That is not an option."

"No one said anything about that, sweetie," Alice says soothingly and Rosalie barks out a laugh, her eyes landing on Bella.

"Please, you're both pathetic, selfish bitches. How long did it take for you to fuck him, B? What did you think was going to happen? You think you can do this to me?"

Bella stands up and as soon as she does, her chair whips backwards, the light bulb above us bursting. A few kids scream, surprised.

By the time a teacher reaches our table to assess the damage, the girls are heading out the emergency exit, disappearing towards the woods.

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I don't see any of them for the rest of the day. I don't feel the ice of Rosalie's presence or hear the sound of music coming from Alice's earbuds. Bella doesn't text me back and by the time the final bell rings, I couldn't tell you a single thing any of my teachers taught today.

I'm convinced she's gone. Convinced they all are.

Jasper is anxious as he drives me home but he doesn't say anything. I wonder if Alice has gotten in touch with him, but I don't ask.

I just get out of the car, and go straight up to my room, numb and ready to stare at the ceiling, overthinking the entire morning until my head explodes.

Instead, Bella Swan is standing in the far corner of my room, fingering the calendar I have hanging on my wall.

I jump back, a surprised grunt bubbling from my throat as she slowly turns to me, her eyes downcast.

She almost looks ashamed.

"I'm sorry for what happened at lunch," she murmurs. I toss my backpack onto the floor by my bed and take a few tentative steps toward her.

"How did you get in here?"

She sighs, "Your mom needs to get a more convincing hide-a-key rock."

"Noted."

"Edward," she says, finally looking me in the eye.

"Are you okay?" I ask, ignoring her focus on me. "Was everything okay after lunch?"

"You're counting down to the solstice," she notes, turning back to the calendar. It's true. Ten days left.

Bella continues, "I have a lot I need to explain to you but I don't know if it'll make any difference."

"You can tell me anything," I say too quickly. Too eagerly.

She smiles weakly.

"Rose is right. I _am_ being selfish. I'm letting you believe that this can be something."

"Bullshit. Just because Rosalie is acting like a bitch doesn't mean you have to—"

She interrupts, blurting out that, "It can't be Edward, I'm not trying to be dramatic or toy with you or anything like that…it can't be something because in ten days…I'm going to be gone. I won't exist here anymore."

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 **Thank you for your follows and favorites and reviews, I still get so happy every time I get an email about it. Thanks for sticking with me. also, if you've PM'd me, I'm not ignoring you i promise, won't let respond to it on my phone and it's weird and I'm sorry. anyway, Til next time xo meg**


	17. ananke

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 **Chapter seventeen: Ananke**

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"What are you even _talking about_?"

Bella looks on the verge of tears, a manic look in her eye while she paces the space between my bed and my desk.

"We've never stayed before—we've always left," she whimpers.

"Explain it to me, Bella, explain what's happening," I plead because I've been left in the dark for so long but she doesn't seem to hear me, her pacing going and going and going. I make my way over to her, putting my hands on her shoulders and stopping her dead in her tracks. Our eyes meet and I'm trying to convey how sincerely I want to hear her thoughts, that she can be open with me. She looks terrified.

"Bella," I urge softly. She inhales. Exhales. She sits on my bed, as near to the window as she can and stares at the sky outside.

"It's hard to explain," she says quietly, still refusing to look back at me.

"Try anyway."

A sigh.

A beginning.

"I don't know exactly how it works," she murmurs and I watch her twist her hands together. "I got all these memories, these vague feelings back when I was a kid. It's all instinct, I guess. Fate, maybe. Alice and Rose and I just gravitated to each other. Like we'd known each other forever by the time we started kindergarten. And I guess we had known each other forever." She lets out a soft, humorless laugh. I'm leaning against the wall, watching her shiver and catch her breath, afraid to move a muscle in case she decides to stop talking.

"I don't sleep, you know? I don't need to. This stuff all came to them in dreams, they don't have to see it every time they close their eyes. I'm awake and in class and my eyes _hurt_ and I just have to close them and every time I do I see blue like I'm underwater or things from lives before.

That's _crazy_ huh? Past lives? We've all got 'em, Edward but mine always ends the same goddamn way." The frustration in her voice hurts, the pain there palpable.

"It's either suicide or the solstice. Escaping this half-life by any means necessary. Suicide's only worked a time or two, and we all have to do it together. Poor Alice never wants to die; her hand always shakes when she takes the poison or holds the gun."

"Bella," I say because I can't stop myself and she whips around to face me, a single tear leaving a line on her cheek.

"Rosalie wants to go back on the Solstice. It's the only time we can do it. I don't know why, but we know how to do it. Again, instinct. Alice wants to stay, but she always does. She's fascinated by these lives. But she has it easy. She gets to feel that joy. It's part of her. She gets the music and the smiles and Rosalie gets to be cruel and beautiful and I just have to be _tired_."

"So you have a choice," I say, my voice strong, hope swelling in me. She wipes at her cheek.

"You think I have a _choice?_ " She's incredulous and bitter.

"You don't have to leave. You don't have to _die_. Why not just…be?"

"You have no idea what this is like."

"I'm trying to understand."

"Well you can't!" she shrieks and the panes of my window shake and suddenly she's sobbing, clinging to me like I'm a life preserver in a storm. I hold onto her, I hold on as tight as I can. Her hands are clutching at my shirt, tears and snot and pain on my neck and her words stilted, apologizing to me over and over and over.

"It's okay, it's okay," I whisper, trying to do anything I can to help.

I'm not sure if anything I do could ever be enough.

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It takes the better part of two hours for Bella's breathing to even out. The sky is dark and I haven't been able to move to turn a light on.

"Edward," she rasps from her spot on my chest. We're laying down at the foot of my bed. My arm is starting to cramp. I hum in recognition.

"I'm scared. I don't know what to do."

"No matter what you decide, I'm here."

I'd been thinking a lot about it in the two hours I'd listened to her cry, about what this meant for her. For me. For us.

If she's going to be gone in ten days, I'm going to do everything in my power to convince her to stay. Make the most of it and all that.

And if she still goes…I'm trying not to think too much about it.

To think too much about a world that she won't be in anymore.

I don't think I want to be part of that world either—to know what existed here at one time.

Bella shifts and I can feel her eyes on me.

"I've never wanted to stay before," she sighs and my heart hammers beneath her ear.

Ten days to make it the first time she stays.

I take in a breath.

Just ten days.

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 **Sorry this is short, just wanted to get** _ **something**_ **out to you guys. I have like 5 more weeks left of classes for the semester and then hopefully I'll have some time to do things.**


	18. hesperides

**wow it's been SO LONG! I'm insanely sorry but I pretty much wrote a paragraph a week for this thing (did you know that grad school is a complete time-suck?)**

 **I know this is short, but I wanted to get** _ **something**_ **out. A necessary filler of sorts. A transition.**

 **ANYWAYS enough of this, thank any and all of you that are still reading this thing, onwards, etc.**

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 **chapter eighteen :** **hesperides**

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It's been dark for a while which means Mom is going to be home from the library soon and start dinner so it's ready when Carlisle gets home.

Which means in the next half hour, I'll hear her footsteps on the stairs and her voice outside my door, asking to come in without waiting for an answer.

She'd find Bella Swan curled into a ball against my side, her face swollen and blotchy and sticky with drying tears.

We haven't spoken in a while but I don't think we have to. We've said all we needed to, our thoughts weighing heavy above us.

 _I need to leave._

 _I need you to stay_.

The garage door opens, buzzing below the floor of my bedroom and Bella sits up without a word, her eyes wide as she moves to the window.

"Do you want to meet up later?" I ask, eager. One corner of her mouth lifts up.

"You should get some sleep," she says softly. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Bella," I say, because she knows I won't sleep much.

"Goodnight, Edward," she sighs, opening the window, her leg landing on the branch outside.

"Goodnight," I mumble, watching her as she climbs down, disappearing into the darkness.

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She's biting her lip during first period. She's there before me and in her seat and staring at the door when I come in. Her eyes soften a little when they meet mine but her teeth don't release her lip.

Bella looks as anxious as I feel.

Someone steps around me, knocking into my elbow and breaking my gaze, but when I look back as I'm making my way to my desk, her eyes are following me.

I give her a nervous smile that she does not return.

The lecture on the dystopian novels we're supposed to write papers on over break is starting and I'm pretending to take notes, but really, I'm trying to figure out ways to keep Isabella Swan here.

I pause when that thought enters my mind.

Am I being selfish?

She never actually said that she _wanted_ to stay. Just that she hadn't done it before.

Alice always wants to stay, though and maybe I need to talk to her first.

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We get library passes in study hall, though I can tell that Alice is suspicious of my motives as we turn towards one of the back doors facing the woods.

"I need your help with something—come to the library with me?" I'd asked as soon as I'd gotten to class. She pulled an earbud out as she nodded.

Now though, making sure no one else is around, we slip through the door, kicking a rock against the jamb to stop it from locking us out. It's cold, but not unbearable and I'm glad we took our coats with us.

"Spill it," she says, eyes narrowed but relatively amused as we take seats on the cold, dry pavement a little way away from the door.

"The solstice."

Alice pales, her eyes widening with alarm.

"W-what about it?" she stammers, looking away.

"Bella told me. About leaving. Or staying."

"So, you know we're not…we're... other?" she asks skeptically, anxious of my answer.

"I know you're not like I am. That doesn't matter to me except for the fact that you all might be gone."

Her shoulders relax, ever so slightly as she scrubs a hand over her face, letting out a weary sigh.

"Does Jasper know?" I press. She nods grimly.

"To an extent. I don't know if he really knows what's going on. None of us do."

"But you want to stay." It isn't a question. Alice swallows hard, twisting the cord of her earbud around and around her fingers.

"Life fascinates me," she says, a watery smile gracing her lips. "I never remember much from before or from…between, you know? But there's so much to learn here and so much to see. Why would we keep coming back if we weren't supposed to be here, you know? I've never gotten to fall in love before and it's so _exciting_."

"Then why not stay?" I ask, my voice cracking. Alice frowns, a bitterness seeping into her tone.

"They can't get back without me. Rose just gets so bored, so annoyed to be stuck somewhere she feels she's so above. I don't blame her, I love her, she just…she's so powerful, Edward, I can never convince her on my own."

"What about Bella?"

My heart hammers as Alice shifts her weight, thinking.

"Bella is just tired. She's got it hard with her…gift. She never gets a break. Rose always tells her, if she goes back, she'll get to just _stop_. I don't blame her, how can I? The dark can be so heavy and alone sometimes."

I feel tears stinging in my eyes.

Alice touches my hand, her voice gentle.

"But I think it's less lonely with you in it."

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I find Bella at her house after school. Her dad's car isn't in the driveway and I can here music coming from her room. My fist doesn't even get a chance to connect with the door before it swings open, Bella's confused smile on the other side.

"What are you doing here?"

"I want to show you the sunset."

She rolls her eyes.

"I've seen the sunset, Edward."

"How have you seen the sunset?"

Bella stares at me like I'm an idiot, her eyebrows raised like she's ready for a fight. There's light in her eyes though. A light I've come to long for every time I'm with her.

"With my eyes?" she scoffs. "Every day?"

I grin, "okay, yeah but just in passing? Have you sat and watched it from start to finish?"

"I don't really like the sun," she says with distaste.

"We'll see," I say with a smirk. "Grab your coat, it's going to get cold."

I'm half-expecting her to slam the door in my face because she's grumbling under her breath and I'm no doubt being irritating as hell, but she reaches an arm behind the door for her jacket.

"This better be good."

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	19. elpis

**Today marks the end of my first year of grad school! No classes this summer so that means UPDATES! And THE COMPLETION OF THIS STORY FINALLY! Anyways, HERE IT IS!**

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 **chapter nineteen: elpis**

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Though she won't admit it, I can tell that Bella Swan is enjoying the sunset. The oranges and purples are reflecting in her dark eyes, almost as if she's pulling the colors in to the murky pools. She's got an easy, smile on her lips and our breath is coming out in a warm fog, mixing together.

At the top of this hill, half a mile from her house, I watch her feel the last rays of today's sun on her face.

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I've made a list. A list of things for Bella to experience before she decides to stay or to go. The sunset was the first of many and the next day, I show up at her house before the sun is even up, my fingers tapping lightly on the door to her room.

The door swings open and I'm met with dark circles on soft, pale skin. Pink cheeks, wild hair.

Bella.

"Isn't winter break supposed to be about sleeping in?" she teases, stepping aside to let me in.

"I don't see you sleeping in," I tell her and she laughs. We both know the impossibility of that.

"Touché."

She drifts back to her bed, pulling her quilt around her shoulders, her eyes directing me to the spot next to her. I sit, resisting the urge to lay down, to fall asleep in this warm cave of a room.

"So, why are you here? Didn't get enough of me last night?" A smile. A twinkle in her eyes.

I could never get enough of her, between the sunset and the time I snuck out of her room to go home, we listened to soft music and I touched her even softer skin and begged her to stay with every touch, kiss, sigh, and thrust.

"Of course I didn't," I say, pressing my lips to hers. "But that's not why I'm here."

"Oh?"

"We're going to be dumb teenagers today."

"You're already a dumb teenager."

I toss a throw pillow at her. She laughs, she lays back.

I lean over her.

"Me, you, Alice, and Jasper are going to Seattle to see a show tonight. Someone Alice likes."

"Edward," she sighs and I can hear a _no_ following close behind.

"You've never left this area—now's your chance." I pause. "You know, before it's too late."

I feel bad for guilting her, but her asking when we're leaving is worth it.

"Jasper's already on his way."

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When Carlisle gave me an emergency credit card, I doubt he had this in mind as an "emergency." We're at a gas station outside Port Angeles and I'm filling up Jasper's tank. I can see him and the girls inside the little convenience store through the big windows. Alice is grinning as Jasper buys her some doughnuts while Bella fills up two large cups of coffee. She raises her eyebrows when our eyes meet, her smile amused.

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Jasper parks the car in a garage and I pay the fifty-dollar all-day fee. None of us have ever been to Seattle before, and we're definitely just wandering blindly, but it's perfect. The rain is light and it isn't too cold today. I watch Jasper walk with his arm around Alice's shoulders as she chats animatedly to him, spinning her earbud cord around and around her index finger. Bella takes in the tall buildings around us, the busy people rushing past don't bump into her—they avoid her path. Same as school.

"I love the city," she breathes.

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We eat sushi for lunch and see the city from the top of the Space Needle. Bella looks for a long time with wide eyes and Alice keeps talking about the spider roll she ate. Jasper listens attentively, as if every word she says is essential.

Bella lets me hold her hand as we walk through some new age store full of crystals and incense. I buy her an Oregon sunstone pendant when she mentions it looks like the sunset and she wears it out of the store. The woman behind the counter comments on her aura and tries to sell Alice tarot cards.

"I don't need those," Alice laughs and laughs, in on her own private joke.

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We find ourselves at the university, getting views of Mount Rainer in the distance as we walk into a library—one that looks like an old European cathedral. We find an unoccupied corner, and take a break. Bella disappears down some stacks while Jasper closes his eyes, leaning his head back on the wall behind him. Alice taps her fingers on her knees in time with whatever song she's listening to.

I wait for her return, when she appears back among the throngs of students trying to cram for their finals, her eyes roaming around the room, in awe that such a place exists.

She takes her seat next to me, her warm body flush against mine. She opens the book, a collection of poems from Langston Hughes, her lips mouthing the words she reads.

 _I've known rivers._

 _I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins._

 _My soul has grown deep like the rivers._

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The show Alice got us all tickets to is in a small, dive-y bar. It's dark and full of warm bodies, drunk laughter, the music is shaking my teeth, my bones.

For the first time, I see Alice take her earbuds out and wrap them around her iPod. She laughs at the expression on my face.

"I don't need these here. Obviously," she says, gesturing to everything and nothing in particular.

"Yeah, Edward. Obviously," Bella teases me and takes my hand. It catches me off guard. It's such an intimate and simple gesture. My chest tightens.

She doesn't let go of my hand, hanging onto me as we get lost in the crowd. People are staring at her because she's smiling and it's going to stop the world. Her smile is usually amused or sarcastic but now it's just…happy.

I don't know what band is playing, Alice mentioned it but I forgot. The lead singer introduces them but I'm too involved in Bella's smile to hear. It takes her a little bit to get comfortable but soon, she's swaying in the crowd, her eyes closed and I've never seen her so content. She's still holding onto my hand, she comes closer and the music is exciting and young and right now, so is Bella.

She's trying to get me to dance with her and I pull her close, pressing my lips to hers.

She's still smiling when she pulls away.

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 **Til next time xoxo**


	20. gelos

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 **chapter twenty: gelos**

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"Hold it!"

I'm slipping my coat on when my mom calls to me from the kitchen, appearing in the hallway. She's covered in flour, spending the day making sugar cookies like she always does for Christmas. Usually I help her—at least help frost and taste-test them.

This year though, I have more important things to do.

"Where are you going?" she asks, her eyes narrowed. Suspicious. "You haven't been here at all since school let out. I miss you, kid."

I swallow my guilt, zipping my coat up as high as it'll go.

"I'm sorry, I've just been…I've been hanging out with my friends. Like tonight. One of my friends might be going away soon so I'm trying to, you know, pack a lot into a little time."

Vague.

Keep it vague.

However, Mom doesn't fuck with _vague_. I can see her mouth forming a question, so I do my best to cut her off with a, "I'll be home later, bye!" and slipping out the door.

The truth is something I can't tell her.

I mean, besides the whole, Bella Swan is not completely human thing.

That could not compare to me telling her what I'm doing tonight.

You know, going on a date.

With a girl.

With Bella.

It's one of the final things on my list. She'd told me she'd never been on one before and truthfully, I've never been on one either. I've hung out with girls, but it's all hooking up in dark closets at parties.

No more of that.

Bella's more than that, which is why when I reach her house, I don't go to the side door that leads directly to her room. I take note of her dad's police cruiser in the gravel driveway as I sound two knocks on the front door.

Chief Swan is as intimidating as I'd imagined. He's got a thick, dark mustache and a hardness in his steely eyes. His arms are crossed, his sleeves rolled up enough to see the edge of a tattoo on his forearm.

"Hello, sir," I say, trying my damnedest to not sound sarcastic. His eyes narrow.

Have I mentioned that I've never been good with authority figures?

"I'm here to pick up Bella."

A grunt.

Does he know how many nights I've spent under his roof?

I'm guessing not because I'm still standing with my balls intact.

"Is she, um, here?"

He hesitates before shouting her name and retreating down the hallway. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to follow, so I stay put, feet frozen to the porch.

Bella's amused when she appears, shaking her head and trying to hide a smile.

"I won't be too late, Dad," she calls over her shoulder as she grabs my hand and pulls me away.

"I can't believe you went to the front door," she laughs, her breath coming out in a fog in the crisp air.

"I told you I was taking you on a date. That's what you do! At least in the movies. Unless you're ashamed of me," I tease and she knocks her shoulder against my arm.

"How did you figure it out?" she quips back and I ignore her.

"So, your dad seems…nice."

"Don't let him fool you. When I told him I was going out tonight he got so flustered he paced around the house until you got there. He's really protective, since it's just the two of us and all."

"Does he know about all your bench sitting? Late night walking?"

"I said he was protective, not present. He works like, 70 hours a week or something."

"A lot of time to be alone," I murmur, mostly to myself. She clucks her tongue.

"It used to be but now I've got this guy who's always hanging around."

I give her a look, knowing she's joking but deep down, I'm always waiting for her to tell me to go.

"You know I like you, I'm only kidding."

We're nearing on the diner, the only place to eat that's within walking distance, and I want to keep her talking about stuff like that. About her life _here_.

"Where's your mom?" I ask, knowing it's tactless but going for it anyway. Bella's eyes shine in the street lights.

"God, no one's brought her up in so long. I never really knew her, she left when I was two and basically disappeared."

I open the door for her and she laughs as she steps inside to the warm, soft light of the diner, the smell of fried food surrounding us. We take a seat in a booth in the back, avoiding the tables of our classmates nearby. Bella shimmies out of her thick coat, revealing what looks to be an equally thick sweater. It's got a hole in the collar and she's drowning in how big it is.

"So, you've like, never heard anything from her since then?" I prompt as her eyes scan the menu. She sets it down, her eyes meeting mine intensely.

"Why do you care?" she asks, her voice suspicious.

"Because I don't know anything about you."

Bella snorts, because, well, I know _some_ things about her.

"You know what I mean," I mutter, then louder, "I don't know this stuff, I don't know the little things that make you…you. Earth you. Human you."

Her eyes return to the menu and I reach across the table to cover her hand with mine.

"I know what you're trying to do," she says quietly. "And that stuff doesn't matter."

"It does to me," I tell her, as earnestly as I can. She gives me a watery smile.

"Then I guess you should know, I love strawberry milkshakes."

"Nobody loves strawberry milkshakes," I laugh, feigning disgust. Her grin is real as I ask for two of them when the waitress comes to take our order.

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Bella is a messy eater, especially when it comes to cheeseburgers. I watch her devour it in what seems like two bites, ketchup seeping its way down the side of her hand.

"My dad isn't allowed to eat red meat," she explains, dragging a fry through the condiments that dripped onto her plate. "It's not good for his cholesterol."

"It's not good for anyone's," I say, grabbing a fry from her plate. She swats my hand away.

"Neither is stealing," she chides, fighting a smirk.

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We fight for the check, engaging in a ruthless battle of tug-of-war. Her grip is unbreakable.

"I'm paying! I'm the guy, it's what I'm supposed to do!"

"That's sexist," she replies. "Besides, I ate way more than you."

"But I asked _you_ out."

"And I _agreed_ in some horrible lapse in judgement."

"That hurts."

"Edward."

"Isabella."

She cringes.

"Don't call me Isabella," she groans.

"If you don't let me pay this check, I will call you Isabella for the rest of our lives."

Her hand jerks away, her eyes wide at my phrasing. She blinks and her cheeks flame.

She lets me pay the bill.

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The walk back to her house is never long enough. Even though it's freezing, I'd stay out here all-night listening to her make fun of me and look at me like I'm not some dickhead guy with a shitty past.

She's giddy, running ahead of me and in circles around me, high on sugar from her milkshake and half of mine, answering my questions too loudly so that her voice echoes across the dark street.

"If I had to pick one place to travel," she practically sang, "I'd go to Tokyo I think."

"Why?"

"It's like Seattle, times ten and also if Seattle was on acid or something."

"Interesting."

"I'm a very interesting person," she jokes and I have to smile because while she's kidding, there's merit to her claim.

Ignoring the whole basically-a-goddess-thing, it's answers like that that pull me impossibly deeper.

So, while she's running around and her cheeks are pink and her skin glows in the low lamplight, it hits me that I've hit the bottom of the fucking Mariana's Trench.

I'm stupidly, impossibly in love with her.

And it still might not be enough to get her stay.

Her grin is wide her eyes are bright and though the air is bitterly cold, there's not a cloud in sight. I grab her hand as she whirls past me and pull her close. She shakes with laughter against my chest and I'm so, so warm.

"Bella, I—" but my proclamation is cut off by the sudden pick up of the wind. Bella stills and tenses.

Rosalie Hale is standing in the middle of the road, near the bench Bella and I'd shared so many times. Alice is cowering behind her, biting her nails and looking…devastated.

Rosalie steps forward.

"We need to talk."

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 **This thang is nearly over!**


	21. perses

**Some people were confused about Bella's mom—Edward isn't the most reliable narrator and Bella isn't the most forthcoming about herself but how** _ **I**_ **imagine it, if she Is the immortal half of Bella's genes, she's doing what the gods do, copulating and bailing.**

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 **chapter twenty-one: perses**

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Two days until the solstice. Two more times the sun will rise before everything is different. Two more days of uncertainty and desperation.

I've spent weeks trying my best to show that this life is good—is worth it. Sometimes it hits me that six months ago, I didn't feel that way at all, that this time last year I was stuck in a hospital while doctors monitored my mental health, made sure that I thought life was worth it enough so that they could send me home.

And I'm not saying that Bella's cured my…whatever I have or don't have, it's just nice to not feel alone in it all.

I hope I can be that for Bella, to help her find the good in this world.

I thought these past few weeks have been going well, that I've seen her smile more times than I've seen her fall back into herself.

We've gone to the big city, I've held her through nights and made her look at the days with different eyes, different attitudes. We've walked through the woods, she made her first snow angel and read me her favorite book aloud.

For the first time in so long, I allowed myself to be happy, and I thought that she had done the same.

Now though, facing Rosalie Hale's wrathful stare, Bella is still, her eyes dark.

I can't see any of that joy in her anymore.

Instead, her face is all hard defiance, her fists clenched and jaw set.

Rosalie claims they need to talk.

Alice wipes at her eyes, looking helpless and hopeless and everything in between.

She's not even wearing her earbuds.

"There's nothing else to talk about," Bella says through gritted teeth. The wind howls.

It chills me to the bone and makes my eyes water. Snow blows around us, the sky above threatening more.

Rosalie laughs humorlessly, tossing her blonde waves over her shoulder. She's not bundled up like Bella or shivering like Alice. Her dark pea coat is buttoned loosely and her cheeks are barely rosy.

"I'm getting really fucking sick of this. Of all the lifetimes to live on Earth, this is the one you want? The one in this backwoods town with this stupid boy who's going to get bored of you in six months?"

I flinch when she turns her stare to me, her icy, blue eyes narrowing cruelly.

I want to speak up, but her gaze has me frozen. Bella steps between us.

"Leave him out of this," her voice is stern, breaking over us like a wave in its volume. "This isn't about him, this is about us."

"Exactly," Rosalie sneers, throwing her hands in the air. "And you're the one bringing _him_ into it. Of all the beings to be stuck to for all eternity, I get you two, you sentimental brats."

"And it's amazing that you've managed to be a bitch this entire fucking time," Bella seethes. Rosalie steps forward, eyes aflame. Branches are snapping from the force of the wind, I can hear them falling in the forest around us.

I swear someone is about to get hit, there are no people around to fight for them, no one to take this energy but me.

Anxiety sinks like a stone in my stomach as Rosalie's hand connects with Bella's cheek.

And everything stops, the world feels as if it stills.

"I never said that I changed my mind," Bella says, touching a gentle hand to where she's been struck. Her voice is level.

"Come on, Alice," the blonde commands tersely and the crying girl follows, brushing past me and Bella quickly and joining Rosalie's now retreating figure.

With their space, comes the loosening of the knot of anxiety, the ability to breathe again. The wind resumes, calmer now and the snow slows in its falling.

Once the relief settles in my chest, something Bella said before stands out to me. She's taking deep breaths as I grab her arm, pulling her around to face me.

There's those wild eyes, the welt coming in on the side of her face, the flaring of her nostrils.

"What did you mean when you said you haven't changed your mind?"

She blinks once. Twice.

And then her eyes narrow.

"What?" Her voice is shrill. I can't stop myself from shrinking away, my hand uncurling from her arm.

I hesitate.

"You…you're still leaving?" My voice cracks and she flinches.

"Edward…"

"None of this mattered."

My hands tear through my hair and I'm spiraling, dizzy at the realization.

" _What_?"

"All of this, the last few weeks…you're still...still going to leave. It didn't make any difference."

Anger is crashing over me, is blinding me, and I want to scream as loud as I possibly can, until I don't have anything left.

"So, all of this was just some ploy to get me to stay? And then, what, I decide to and your job is done? Jesus Christ, Edward, don't tell me Rosalie is _right_."

The implication pushes me over the edge, my voice is raised and raw and mad as all hell.

"How can you even fucking _say_ that to me? You know that isn't it at all."

"Do I though?" she comes back, getting in my face, making the wind bite and sting. "How do I know you're not just seeing me as some fucking novelty? Some shiny new toy in your life to fuck until the next one comes along? And then what? I'm stuck here with _nothing._ "

Maybe it's the energy Bella's pushing out through every pore in her body or maybe just my mental instability, but I let out that frustrated shout, the one that echoes around us in the quiet night.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, Bella. It doesn't matter anymore, does it—you've already made up your damn mind. You can fight with me all you want, make whatever assumptions about me you fucking want. But it's not me—you know it's not. It's _you_. _You're_ afraid of admitting that you _want_ this."

"You don't know anything," she whispers amongst my ragged breaths and it just…it finishes me.

"Maybe I don't," I sigh, resigned. "I won't waste anymore of your time, I can't keep doing this to myself."

I can feel her eyes on me, but I can't meet them with my own, I can't lose my nerve.

"Have a nice life. Or existence or whatever."

And with that, I pull myself away and make my way home.

Alone.

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 **Sooooo depending on how I end up feeling about it, the next chapter is most likely going to be the last? Unless I split it in half. We'll see. Anyways, it's almost done, it'll be out soon. Sorry I suck at updating this. My roommate got me hooked on Game of Thrones so that's been a thing. A big thing.**


	22. moros

**Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii here's this. Thank you for reading thank you for being the best, I love you all.**

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 **chapter twenty-two: moros**

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I don't leave my room much over the next two days. Just to piss, really, but I haven't eaten or had any water so those trips are few and far between. Mom and Carlisle know something's wrong but I think they know to give me space.

They know something has changed. They probably think Bella and I broke up or something.

I guess we kind of did.

After I left Bella standing alone in the street, I took my time in the shower, the water so hot I could barely stand it. I let myself sit in the spray, too tired to stand and I collapsed in on myself to the point of just…numbness. I took four pills and thankfully drifted off to sleep, into nothing.

I didn't wake up until the afternoon, thankfully, and no one was home to judge me when I immediately took another Ambien.

When I woke up again, it was nearly morning again.

I could have lived my whole life like this, probably. Pill, sleep, pill, sleep, and hopefully death at some point.

But unfortunately, when you take more pills than you need at one time, you run out of them sooner. A subscription that was supposed to last two months barely makes it through one.

The eclipse is in a matter of hours and I'll most likely be awake for the whole thing.

Maybe I _did_ die from the overdose last year and this whole experience is my version of hell. I trace my finger over the circled date on my calendar, trying to imagine the person that was looking forward to this day, the person that really did know _nothing_.

And hell, maybe Bella Swan is right, maybe I don't know anything. I'm a teenager, I tried—I'm trying—my best.

You can only put yourself on the line for so long before it's time to let it go. To let her go.

Because this decision, the one to stay or to go, is solely hers to make. If she doesn't want me, then she doesn't want me.

As painful as it is to think of, it's the truth.

The sun's already falling behind the trees and wind shakes the old windows in their panes. Carlisle is working late and Mom has her last final for her classes and then they're going to see a movie. I'm alone and for the first time in a very long time, I wish I wasn't.

I'm struck by how much I want my mom to hug me and tell me I'm going be okay and stay with me until my breathing evens out.

I'm desperate to feel safe and normal and fine.

The only thing I can think to do is busy myself, I get Netflix pulled up and playing some dumb sitcom that I liked when I was younger, the laugh track comforting but not enough. I'm looking around, trying to figure out what to occupy myself with further and my stomach drops at the sight of all my astronomy and mythology books still strewn around the room.

Maybe someday I'll be able to come back to them, but for now, I find a box I still haven't unpacked—just summer clothes—and dump it all on the floor. I pack away the books, pack away that part of myself that I'd lived with for so long.

It's time to find comfort elsewhere.

I tidy up the rest of the room, to make the empty space seem less jarring, the task lessening my anxiety slowly but surely.

By the time I reach my telescope, I'm calm enough to make space for it in the box with the books. The stars will still be there, but I can't be close to them anymore.

It's when I start to take it away from its spot that I notice the light.

It's just a faint glow, but it's there beyond the tops of the trees and I'm overcome with emotion.

Call it mental illness, call it intuition, call it whatever the fuck you want—but I need to get to wherever it's coming from.

I know it's the three of them.

I know it's Bella.

I won't stop her, I won't even try, I won't say anything but goodbye.

Because as much as it hurts, I can't let things rest how they are—with my anger and confusion and her…everything.

I pull my shoes on and zip my coat, running into the cold air, not knowing where exactly it is I'm going.

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The wind is unbearable, made worse by the sleet scraping against the exposed skin of my cheeks. The sky's darker than normal and I try to remember when the eclipse was supposed to start. It's barely eleven.

It takes me longer than it should to realize that I'm heading for the bench.

The beginning, and probably the end, too.

The worn wood is slick with ice and looks so lonely in the dark. I try to remember the last time I sat here with Bella Swan and I…I can't.

I would give anything for one more moment with her at this bench. For one more teasing smile.

No, keep going. Keep moving.

But where?

Lightning cuts across the sky overhead, the flash echoing in the forest ahead. There's no thunder that follows, there is only the eerie glow, the sound of the wind in the trees.

Another flash.

I follow it.

The flashing is the only thing lighting my way through thick of the trees and brush, the ground is so muddy that I sink with every step.

Branches are scratching my face, my hands, but I can see the lightning striking the ground ahead, I can feel it vibrating beneath my feet.

There's a clearing ahead and I can see Rosalie's blond hair practically glowing in the darkness and blowing wildly, the wind stronger than before. With one look at the sky, I can see the moon, nearly completely orange but dimmer than I'm used to.

The eclipse is almost at totality.

I'm not paying attention to the ground, too distracted by the darkening sky, and my foot catches on a root or a rock and I'm falling forward, out of the trees and into the open, unable to stop myself from yelling out in surprise.

Three sets of eyes are suddenly on me.

" _Edward!?_ " Bella Swan cries out, her voice so pained that I feel it radiate in my bones.

"Stop it, Bella! It's almost time," Rosalie shouts, her rage overtaking _everything_.

Lightning strikes the ground in front of me, I recoil, feeling the heat as it misses.

"Rosalie!" Bella and Alice scream at the same time. The three of them are holding hands, circled up in the exact center of the clearing.

Wind swirls around them like a vortex.

"Get out of here, Edward!" Alice calls out, her voice wavering. "It's not safe for you."

Bella is staring at me intently.

Sadly.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, and Rosalie rolls her eyes, her hands tightening their grip on her friend's.

I drag myself forward, trying to get to my feet.

"I had to say goodbye." My voice is straining to be loud, the wind making it hard to take a breath. "I'm not going to ask you to stay, I just want you to know that...I love you. I do, okay? I love you and I'll miss you, so much. But I understand. I know this is shitty for you—I just want you to be happy."

Rosalie is screaming for me to shut the fuck up, Alice is begging them to let her stay, to let them stay, and Bella Swan is…Bella Swan's body is folding in on itself, shaking with violent cries.

And for what feels like the millionth time tonight, I'm scared.

God, I'm terrified, because the wind is somehow blowing impossibly harder and the lightning is striking in groups, in quick succession and it takes everything in me to not squeeze my eyes shut, to curl up into a ball.

But I fight that instinct—I watch as the girls scream, whatever power they have bursting forth like a sun.

There is light.

And then,

Nothing.

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 **One more chapter and a short epilogue? I've got it all mostly written. I'm hoping to have it up tomorrow!**


	23. eos

**Look I'm here it's tomorrow I did it!**

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 **chapter twenty three: eos**

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I wake up in bed.

My head is pounding, my mouth is dry. I feel like I spent the night getting drunk and taking pills.

But once I realize I'm not still in New Jersey, that I'm in my dark, Forks bedroom, it all comes back.

Bella. The girls. The field. The light.

The darkness.

The...whatever happened next.

How the fuck did I get back here?

Where...are they gone?

I'm out of bed in an instant, trying to fight through the lightheadedness that comes with the too-fast movement. I'm stumbling down the stairs, trying to see my way through the dark.

Carlisle is in the kitchen, sipping coffee and looking alarmed at my entrance.

"What are you doing up?" We ask each other at the same time. He sets his mug down on the table. I can see the beginning of the sunrise in the distance, the light rain hitting the window behind him.

"I have to go to work," he says slowly and then waits for me to explain myself.

"I...have to go check something."

His eyes narrow, not unkindly, just suspicious.

"Look, Edward, I'm not trying to breathe down your neck and get in your business but your mom, she's worried about you. I don't know what's going on with you but just...be smart."

I feel guilty, just an inkling of it creep into my chest at the uncertainty in his voice. They're no doubt worried I'm back on my bullshit of substance abuse and I definitely look as shitty as I feel right now. I haven't given them any indication that I'm, you know, not.

I remind myself to work on that.

But right now, there are more important things.

"I will, it's just been a weird few months," I explain, backing down the hallway. I can hear Carlisle sigh and pick his mug back up.

My coat isn't hanging on the rack or in the closet and I'm trying to remember if I took it with me last night.

I grab a sweatshirt instead-better than nothing, I guess, pull my sneakers on and slip out the front door as quietly as I possibly can.

The weather is definitely an improvement from last night. Mild rain, hardly any wind and all the ice has melted.

I try to remember such...neutral weather happening here.

My stomach sinks because what does that mean for Bella Swan?

I start to run, ignoring the nauseous feeling in my stomach and the dryness of my mouth. The puddles on the ground are soaking my shoes and my hair is flopping in my eyes and I can barely swallow a breath but I don't slow down. I'll have heart-attack before I do.

I'm fully prepared to sprint to her house, to pound on her front door until my knuckles bleed but...I don't have to.

Because as I'm nearing the shortcut to her house, I see the bench.

Our bench.

And it's not empty.

I can't stop my voice, Bella's name bubbles from my throat too loudly.

She looks up at me, scared by the suddenness of the noise, her eyes wide and dark as the day I first saw her.

But then,

She smiles.

I stop myself from collapsing in front of her, my breath coming hard.

"You're here," I gasp and she tucks her hair behind her ears-almost nervously.

A very human display of nerves.

"Yeah," she says softly. I could cry with relief at the sound of her voice.

"How?"

She looks at her hands, twisting in her lap.

"I...I'm not sure."

My face must fall because she backtracks.

"I mean, I'm not sure of the exact how...but I...we...decided to. We stayed. We're...here."

"Bella," I breathe because fuck, I _can_ and I sink to my knees in front of her, ignoring the coldness of the puddle beneath me.

She lets out a disbelieving laugh.

"I never thought I was going to hear you say that ever again."

And then she's crying and smiling and I'm joining her, our relief and tentative happiness rising in the air around us.

"I don't remember anything from last night...not after that light," I explain, trying to get answers.

"I don't really either," she says. "You just, I mean, I saw you and I knew I couldn't go. I couldn't do it. I let go of their hands and closed my eyes and next thing I knew, I was in my room and I was missing the whole night."

"Like everything reset," I wonder, my hands covering hers, thumbs brushing against her soft skin. She nods and smiles, tilting her face to the sky.

"Everything feels different. Lighter. It's raining, Edward, and I'm not making it happen."

"You're not?"

"No, and I'm...I'm tired. But like, actually tired. Like I want to go to sleep. When I close my eyes, it's just dark, I'm not seeing everything anymore. I'm just…"

"You're just you," I finish and she laughs, just for the joy of it.

"I think I want to go home and go to bed," she says, her voice betraying her excitement over the very idea of sleeping. "And if you want to...you could come with me?"

"I've never wanted anything more in my life," I tell her, and it's the truth.

 **\**

 **\**

 **\**

When Bella Swan sleeps, she smiles. Just a little. The corners of her mouth turn up and her breathing is even and I've never seen anyone look so peaceful or beautiful. I watch her back rise and fall as she's curled around me, her fingers resting on my chest, my lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. She's breathing softly, her lips parted, her cheeks pink.

I'm in love with her and I get to spend the next however many years showing her how much I mean it.

Because, fuck, she's _here_.

And so, I finally let myself fall asleep, too, feeling okay for the first time in so long.

 **/**

 **/**

 **/**

I wake to whispering.

"This is so fucking weird. Have you ever seen her asleep?"

"Never. She always said she couldn't."

"Do you think it's like, a side-effect of this whole thing?"

"I don't know."

When I open my eyes, I see Alice and Rosalie standing over us, their eyes wide and confused and just...shocked.

"What the fuck?" I whisper, my voice hoarse. Alice grins and while Rosalie's expression doesn't change, the blue of her eyes is softer, more sunny sky than ice.

Holy shit, her eyes are softer.

The energy in the room isn't charged like it usually is when they're all together, it's just like any other room.

They seem just as weirded out as I am.

"Can we wake her up now?" Alice begs, excited and leaning in closer.

Rosalie shrugs and in an instant, Alice is on top of Bella as well as on top of me. I feel the shaking of laughter from the both of them and Rosalie actually cracks a small smile.

It's all very bizarre.

Which is bizarre on its own—when three teenage girls seem like teenage girls rather than goddesses or whatever is _not_ the norm.

Is that what happens when they remain? Do they gain their own kind of humanity? Do they give up those intense, difficult parts of themselves they got from the stars?

Is it a relief?

Or a kind of half-life, one where they no longer feel like themselves?

How much of that is my fault?

Bella's hand cups my cheek, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"We made this decision on our own, Edward," she says softly. Alice nods vigorously.

"Not all of us decided this," Rosalie points out.

"I don't regret it," Alice tells her, tells me, tells herself.

"Yet," Rosalie adds but her usual hatred is absent.

I wonder how much of her anger is back with the stars.

"Can you guys get out of here? I want to make out with my boyfriend," Bella groans and my heart leaps.

"Boyfriend?" I ask as she lifts her face to mine, my smile surely goofy.

"If that's okay," she says softly and Rosalie and Alice make gagging noises.

"Yuck, can't you wait until we're out the door?" Alice laughs and soon, they're gone.

The room is quiet again, and Bella's twisting around, our lips meeting again and our limbs tangling us together like winter birds.

I kiss her softly, slowly. There's no urgency, no desperation, just relief because in all the times in all the universe, we're here now, together, with the whole world ahead of us.

 **\**

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 **epilogue**

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Bella Swan should have been to the desert sooner. Watching her flit around the front of the car, her body glowing in the light of the headlamps.

This old, shitty rusted Volvo's been our home for nearly three months.

"Turn the radio up!" she calls and I oblige, the acoustic guitars and soft voices filling the air around us. I'm trying to finish this postcard to my mom and Carlisle, to tell them I love them, to announce that Bella and I eloped, that we got married at sunrise at the Grand Canyon a week ago and that I've never been happier in my entire life. There are similar cards in the cupholder next to me—one to Alice and Jasper, who are making a life for themselves in Austin—we're heading there next—and to Rosalie, who's in law school out east, putting her intimidation and persuasion to good use.

She called us stupid for doing this trip, but told us to keep in touch. I've actually started to miss her no-bullshit attitude and unending snark—the human parts of her that used to be clouded in those overwhelming parts of herself.

Signing my name to the postcard, I set it with the others, grinning because I just, can't believe I have friends. Who I keep in touch with. Who I _miss_.

Sixteen-year-old me would be appalled. I wish I could send him a letter, too.

I have no idea when we're going to see a mailbox or a post office.

We're somewhere in New Mexico, I haven't looked at the map in days.

"Edward!" Bella urges me out of the car, her smile brilliant, her eyes bright.

It's quiet save for the occasional buzz of a bug or a howl in the distance. She takes my hand and leads down the road, shimmying her hips.

"You're a nerd," I laugh and she licks her lips.

"And yet you're still here," she muses, dragging her free hand absentmindedly along my jaw, feeling the stubble quickly turning into a beard.

I can't remember the last time I shaved.

"I never said it was a bad thing," I say, pulling her close. She's in her favorite dress—the one she got at an estate sale in Montana. The emerald green linen is loose on her as she sways in my arms, her cheek pressed to my chest.

"I love you," she sighs, content, and I'm sure she can feel my heart pounding. All these years later and hearing her say that never gets old, it still sends a thrill through my whole being.

We've had years of laughing and fighting and sleeping and leaving and learning and fucking and even though we're burning through the last of our savings on this trip, this jaunt around the country, it's what we wanted to do, because we know how short time can be and how long we can make it.

As the song ends, Bella pulls away, making her way to the telescope set-up on the trunk of the car. My shitty one from the windowsill at home.

"The stars are better here than anywhere else, Edward," she breathes. For a long time, we didn't talk about them, my telescope stayed packed away and we slept at night.

But she was growing sick for them, we both were.

And so, we've been searching for that balance, between the stars and us and everything else.

As I watch her watching the cosmos above, I can't help but think of Plato's _The Symposium_ and his explanation of soulmates. Apparently, humans originally had four arms, four legs, and one head. The gods felt threatened as humans grew stronger, and Zeus, in his never-ending goal of self-interest, split them in two, subjecting them to the misery of only being half of a whole. It's said though, that if they find one another, they'd feel no greater joy.

Bella turns to me, grinning.

"Your turn," she says, kissing my cheek as I move my eye to the lens.

We're living this joy; our love is stronger than anything- any kind of god or being could throw at us.

I see the stars shine, I find Orion first and move to the next constellation, Bella's hand wrapped firmly in mine.

 **\**

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 **end**

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 **WOW it's OVER. Thank you to everyone who read, everyone who reviewed, everyone who recommended this story to others. I'm unendingly grateful for your support. I'm already pretty far into another something I've been drabbling with so I'm sure you'll see me again.**

 **All my love,**

 **meg**


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